


Exposure

by GingerEl



Series: Ink and Feather [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxious Prompto Argentum, Casual Sex, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, College AU, Dehumanization, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, IgNyx occasionally in the foreground, Kink Exploration, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Ignis Scientia/Nyx Ulric, Minor Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum, No Strings Attached, No prophecy, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Rimming, Sex Toys, Tattoo Apprentice Prompto, Texting, alternate background Prompto, background politics, best dog Rosie returns, blind folds, no magic, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 207,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24116218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerEl/pseuds/GingerEl
Summary: "Is that Gladio?" Prompto asks Noct, pointing at an unfamiliar face in a framed picture on the wall."Mhm," Noct murmurs, barely looking up from his phone.Prompto chews on his bottom lip, taking in the breadth of his shoulders, the width of his arms."Wow," Prompto says.Prompto doesn’t know what he was expecting when he decided to partake in a casual affair with Noct’s lifelong friend and Shield, Gladio. But its not this.Alternatively: Prompto tries to put his horrific childhood behind him but doesn't really manage until he finally lands on a chance move to Insomnia where he meets Noct and Iggy. And Gladio.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Prompto Argentum & Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum & Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: Ink and Feather [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661995
Comments: 249
Kudos: 201





	1. Niflheim

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't expect this to take so long! I've been a mess you guys but I'm back in this little world I made and I'm so happy.
> 
> I'm slapping and big old WARNING on this first chapter. Saturation is, for the most part, a fun little romp with just a little angst and this will be too once we've got this first chapter out of the way. Please heed the tags and maybe step back if anything you see there might harm you to read. Largely that stuff is over from the chapter break that indicates Prompto is now Nine if you just wanna skip the worst of it. And finally, I didn't tag this as underage because where I'm from (and in the canon of the story) Prompto's not, but he first has sex when he's sixteen and I understand that can be iffy for a lot people. I don't write it out explicitly but its more than heavily implied, if that bothers you just skip from the first time you see a text message to the following chapter break and you're all good!
> 
> If this giant wall of text didn't scare you off then hop on in. It gets much more fun after this, I promise.

\- - Four - -

He’s been in the tub before.

It’s cold and wet and there’s something poking him in the arm, stuck there with itchy tape. He tries to scratch it away, peel it off, but hands bat his fingers away every time. He cries, even though he knows it won’t help and slumps miserably against the icy edge of the tub.

Around him, the tall people holding rectangles talk, saying words he doesn’t understand.

“- metabolism is slow, we’ll have to keep an eye on his intake.”

“Really looks like him though. Don’t you think?”

“You think he was a cry-baby runt, too?”

The room falls silent so quickly that his own cries halt too, surprised by the sudden lack of noise.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” snaps one of the tall people, the one standing across the room from him, the one that never comes close enough to touch him. They have pretty hair, long, silvery waves of the stuff and he always likes looking at it when she's near. At least until the other people start poking and prodding him.

“This place isn’t actually bugged,” says the one that had smacked his hands away before, “Besithia isn’t listening. They just say that to keep us in line.”

“He’s a _child_ ,” the silver-haired one responds.

He doesn’t know what any of this _means_.

“For now.”

\- - -

He’s taken to a room he’s never been in before. It’s _very_ white with very bright lights and a strange looking chair in the middle. The chair is hooked up to a little machine with another tall person stood by it. They’re wearing clothes that he’s not ever seen before, they’re _blue_ , not grey or white like he’s used to seeing. So he doesn’t know what job this person does.

He’s lifted and put in the chair and the one that walked with him pulls his arm and places it along a flat, cold thing under the little machine. The other one straps it down, tight enough that he can’t move even a tiny bit, barely able to wiggle his fingers.

“You remember when we used to have to hold them down?” the one that walked him asks.

The blue one laughs, “ _I_ remember when we used to do these all by hand. Some of the first ones were awful, barely helped.”

“Didn’t keep good records then anyway.”

Blue taps something on the screen and he finds himself wiggling uncomfortably on the chair, too little to sit back and get comfortable with his arm strapped down.

“Number?”

The one that walked him raises the rectangle in his hand and taps it, “N dash lowercase I, P O -”

“ _O_ or zero?”

“ _Zero_ , 1 3 5 7.”

“Scan this,” Blue says and the other one passes his rectangle over the small screen. There’s a beep and he says, “Code generated.”

At first what he feels is like his injections. The things they always say will make him feel _better_ but actually hurt and make him _sad_. But its okay, he can handle that, he’s always managed it before. He’s learnt it will be over soon.

But its not over soon, the pin pricks get worse, harder, there’s more of them. They go on and on and on, his whole arm buzzing from the pressure, the _pain_.

He tries not to cry but the tears stream down his face in hot streaks.

“Least he’s not screaming,” the one in blue says.

\- - Five - -

The girl ahead of him catches her foot on the edge of the obstacle she’s climbing and N-iP01357 watches her fall in a strange kind of slow motion. At first she doesn’t make any noise, seemingly in shock as he body almost bounces from the impact.

But then she splits the air with a heart wrenching cry.

N-iP01357 crawls out from under the low barricade and moves as fast as his little legs will carry him to her side. She quietens as soon as his hand touches her back.

N-iP01357 doesn’t recognise her but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s new, he rarely sees the same people over and over again, sometimes he’ll have someone in one of the rooms he goes to every day for a while and then they’ll disappear, only to reappear a long time later in the place where he eats or the cold room where he gets clean.

She’s got yellow hair, cut short like everyone else, and blood on her palms from the rough landing.

“Help you?” Prompto offers, holding out a hand.

The corners of her mouth pull upwards and she reaches out, fingers warm as they touch.

“No touching,” a voice barks, but N-iP01357 ignores it, doesn’t really understand what it means or why they’re saying it.

He keeps hold of the girls hand and walks her over to the next barrier, showing her how to put her foot up to make it easy to swing over.

“ _Stop_ ,” the voice says again, closer.

N-iP01357 doesn’t realise he’s the one being spoken too until a hand grips the top of his arm and yanks him backwards. He stumbles, hitting the floor and immediately curls up and goes silent, knowing its the best way to make things like this end quickly.

The girl cries out again but N-iP01357 doesn’t look up, doesn’t reach out to help her. He wants too, but he also doesn’t, too frightened of the consequences now he realises what he did was _wrong_.

Roughly he’s pulled to his feet and N-iP01357 goes easily, getting his feet underneath him and moving them quickly, trying to walk beside the tall man rather than be dragged. The man pushes them through a door, so they’re back in the hallway and out of the exercise hall. He's pushed into a different tall one - one of the ones without one of the rectangles but with one of the weird metal things that makes the loud noises - and N-iP01357 stumbles right into their leg.

“Careful,” they say and N-iP01357 thinks he’s being reprimanded again but when he looks up the two tall ones are glowering at each other.

“Take him back to his bunk, he’s to get no more rations today,” the rough one says.

N-iP01357 stomach sinks. He must have been bad. Really, _really_ bad to be punished so harshly. N-iP01357 doesn’t understand why though. It felt _good_ to help her, to make her stop crying and show her how to do it the right way.

“They’ve only had one meal today,” the other one argues, “You don’t have the authority to extend punishments that far.”

N-iP01357 has never heard the word _meal_ before but he supposes it means one of the periods of time in which they gather to eat.

“I’ve got more authority that _you_ ,” the rectangle wielding one snaps.

There’s a pause, silence that almost hurts N-iP01357’s ears and then the one from the hallway, the one whose leg he’s still pressed up against says, “Come on, Kid.”

 _Kid_ , N-iP01357 thinks.

He’s never heard that word before.

It’s a long walk back to his bunk and as usual the tall one makes no effort to speak to him and N-iP01357 knows better - usually - than to speak other than to answer a direct question.

He used to not be so good at that. Asking whats and whys and hows. He's learnt better.

They stop at the end of a long hallway and the tall one taps the wall above where N-iP01357 needs to scan his wrist. When he does there’s a loud buzz followed by a clank then a light above a door about halfway down the hallway glows green.

Usually, at the end of the day or during a lockdown, they have them all line up by number, printed on their arm and their clothes, and they open up one by one, filing down the hallway.

N-iP01357 remembers back when he was small and they'd bunked a dozen to a room. They weren’t allowed to talk, but it was nicer than the alternative.

“In you go, kid,” he says as they reach the open door.

There’s that word again. _Kid_.

The room is pitch dark, lit up only by the hallway and as the door closes behind him N-iP01357 is plunged into complete darkness.

N-iP01357 sits on his cot, feeling numb. He’s not going to eat again today. Will they even let him out for exercise and lessons? Or is he in here now until morning? N-iP01357 can’t comprehend exactly how much time that is but it feels _endless_.

There’s a window in the door, covered by sliding metal, that the tall ones can use to check up on them without unlocking the door and it opens up now, the face of the one that just escorted him here appears alongside a flood of light from the hallway.

“Better than sitting in the dark, huh?” they say and their mouth pull up at the edges. N-iP01357 feels one side of his do the same without him consciously deciding for it to do so, “I’ll see about getting you something to eat later, kid, okay?”

N-iP01357 is alone for a long time after that. It’s completely silent and still apart from twice when the shadow of someone patrolling the hallway walks past. They don’t bother to check on him and as the day drags onward N-iP01357 tries to sleep but by what he estimates to be about 1600 hours his stomach is growling, uncomfortable in its emptiness. There’s another pain too. His bladder so full it _hurts_. Usually he gets to relieve himself several times a day. But he’s not yet at the level where his bunk has its own waste receptacle and he dare not make a mess like that.

The punishment doesn’t bear thinking about.

Another long time passes and the noise of everyone returning to their bunks comes and goes. Shortly after the light from the hallway goes out and N-iP01357 tries to settle, tries to ignore the various aches in his belly. N-iP01357 startles out of a stupor by the light suddenly flooding back through the little window, no one having bothered to slide the metal back across.

The same tall one from earlier appears in the window and then the whole door opens. N-iP01357 sits up, but stays rooted to his cot.

“Hey, champ,” he says, sliding into the room closely followed by another tall one, a woman who he recognises from the sterile place where sometimes he gets poked by needles. Her long silvery hair is all twisted together in one long tail today.

 _Champ_. That's another word N-iP01357 doesn’t know.

She’s holding a pouch of fluid and a bucket, which is placed in the corner and then crouches down in front of him, presenting the pouch. The man crouches too and from a pocket he pulls something, carefully unwrapping one of the nutrition squares they usually get fed when they’re not returned to the designated eating room for food.

“Take it,” the woman says, almost whispering, “Quickly, we can’t stay long.”

N-iP01357 takes the pouch. He doesn’t want to drink it, even though his throat is bone dry, doesn't want it to fill him up even more, make the pain worse.

“He probably needs to piss,” the man grumbles. Yet another word N-iP01357 doesn’t understand.

“Oh,” the woman says, taking it back, “Do you need to relieve yourself?”

N-iP01357 feels his face go warm and he looks down at the floor as he nods.

“You can use this,” she says, tapping the bucket, “We’ll look away.”

N-iP01357 feels something in his chest, itchy and hot, as he unzips his clothes enough to be able to empty his water. It’s noisy and his face warms further as finishes, pulling his jumpsuit back up over his arms and zipping it all the way up. He’ll get a new one tomorrow morning, tomorrow is a day where they visit the wash-room, if N-iP01357 is remembering his routine properly.

“All done?” the man asks, turning to look over his shoulder.

N-iP01357 hopes the smell doesn't bother them.

The woman passes the fluid off to the man then quickly bustles the bucket outside the room. N-iP01357 feels that itchy, hot feeling from before explode, the force of it inside him almost knocking him down.

“Hey, hey,” the man says gently, “Don’t worry about that.”

The woman is back, crouching down again. She reaches inside the white coat she’s working and brings out a small bottle, “Hold out your hands,” she says.

N-iP01357 does so, used to following orders by now. She squirts something onto his palms and tells him to rub his hands together, miming what he should do. The liquid is cold, tingling slightly as he rubs it around and it smells like the sterile room where they give him his injections.

“There,” she says, handing him back the pouch.

N-iP01357 wrinkles his nose as he takes it, smelling the familiar scent of the weird nutrition drink they take when they’re below _optimum health_. It doesn’t taste much different to normal liquid but it feels funny in his mouth. He drinks it all down though, relishing the coolness and the way it removes the strange sluggishness from his mind.

“Shit, Rina, we should have bought him more,” the man whispers, handing him the nutrition square, “Eat up, kid.”

 _Kid_ , N-iP01357 thinks again. It must be another designation for someone at his training level. Or perhaps something that indicates all subordinates.

 _Eat up_ , is also not a phrase he’s heard before but _eat_ is something he’s more than familiar with so he breaks off a piece and pops it in his mouth.

“It was all I could do to get that one,” the woman says. N-iP01357 thinks her designation might be Rina, but its nothing like any designation he’s ever heard before. It has no _numbers_. “I don’t have anything to do with nutrition, if they’d caught me in there, or with that one…”

“It’s okay,” the man says, “This is better than nothing.”

N-iP01357 continues to eat, its a bit slow going, hard to chew without his usual cup of plain fluid to help ease the way.

“Do none of them talk?” the man whispers to the woman.

“They can,” she says back, “They’re just taught mostly not to. He’s particularly quiet.”

The man makes a noise.

“He doesn’t know any differently,” the woman says.

“We better go,” the man says, as N-iP01357 pushes the last bit of nutrition square into his mouth. It wasn’t enjoyable to eat, but he feels better, now there’s something inside him to fight against the hunger pains.

“Try to sleep now,” the woman says to him and together the two tall ones stand and leave. They both look in through the window in his door for a long moment once he’s locked back inside. She looks _sad_ , N-iP01357 realises with a start and the same feeling wells up inside him as she slowly pulls the metal panel across the window and disappears.

\- - Six - -

N-iP01357 doesn’t understand what the thing on the table is for but he knows how to take it apart and put it back together. And he knows if he does it right four times in a row he’ll get a full portion of rations at his midday meal.

Rations might not taste very good but its better to be full of them than have to spend the day with a belly aching for something to fill it.

N-iP01357 snaps the last piece into place - a moving mechanism that would make the device do something if these weren’t ‘simply prototypes’ - and then settles it back down on the table and takes a half step back to signal his completion of the task. Just like he’d been trained.

A scientist steps up to him then and inspects his work. They nod, face immovable, and pull a green band free from the hook on their tablet.

“Arm,” they say and Prompto obediently holds out his right hand. They snap the green band around his wrist, right under the mark that lets everybody know what he is, and N-iP01357 knows that he’ll be well fed for training that afternoon.

\- - Seven - -

They’re in the place the scientists call ‘outside’ today. But from everything N-iP01357 has learnt in lessons this isn’t really outside at all. It’s surrounded by four walls, for a start, and it has a roof. The roof is made of glass, but its grimy, covered in debris and dirt, but through it on really bright days N-iP01357 can catch glimpses of the sky.

N-iP01357 is fast. He’s the fastest in this group by quite a margin, meaning he gets a precious few seconds to stand the other side of the line to catch his breath and squint up through murky glass and look at the _sky_. N-iP01357 likes the sky, he thinks, as much as he likes anything.

He likes the midday rations they get when they have little green flecks in them - they look worse but somehow taste better. He likes assembling what he now knows is a _gun_ and the few times they’ve been taken to the special room where they’re allowed to play with them. Pulling the triggers and making neat little holes in the targets.

N-iP01357 is good at that. It’s where he excels most, apart from here, apart from running.

“Pathetic,” the scientist yells as the last one crosses the line, “Again.”

Obediently they start to file back over to the start line. N-iP01357 isn’t worried about doing it again, he thinks he could do it forty more times if he had to -

“N-iP01357,” a new voice calls and only belatedly does he realise the double doors back into the facility proper have opened. He snaps to attention, stopping his movements and waits for instructions. It feels weird to _technically_ be disobeying orders right now but the second voice is also a scientist and N-iP01357 isn’t yet privy to the intricacies within the chain of command.

“You taking that one?” asks the scientist running the training.

“Medical,” they say and N-iP01357’s heart sinks. Not once, not ever, has he come away from medical feeling better or even as good as he did when he got there.

“He’s not defective,” he argues, tapping something on his tablet.

“Need to do some tests -” he pauses to look down at his own tablet “- speed. Stamina. You sure you recorded his times right?”

Even from across the way N-iP01357 can see him bristle at the suggestion.

“It’s all _automated_ , I couldn’t -”

“I’m joking,” says the new one. N-iP01357 knows what a joke is, in theory, but this doesn’t feel like one.

The scientist by the door repeats N-iP01357’s designation and he walks over, immediately holding up his wrist so they can perform the change over. He’s scanned twice and then he’s following the second scientist through hallways with no more instruction than a rough order to _keep up_.

When they get to medical he’s taken past the rooms he’s usually put in to be prodded and poked. From one room echoes a high pitched cry and N-iP01357 feels his shoulders bunch together, uncomfortable at the obvious noise of pain.

He’s lead through into a larger room than he’s expecting, there are two scientists in there, both wearing the long coats that make other people call them _Doctor_. With a start N-iP01357 recognises the one with long, pretty hair, almost glowing under the lights.

 _Rina_ , his mind supplies, though he’s heard her referred to differently, an addendum to her Doctor designation.

Recognition passes her face too, when she looks at him and she turns around quickly, facing the monitors on the wall behind her.

She’s stood near a treadmill, a device N-iP01357 recognises but hasn’t used in a long time. It was where they all learnt to run, before they became a high enough level to be permitted outside. N-iP01357 hopes he gets to do more running, at least.

“The usual,” the one escorting him says.

“Scan him in and I’ll take it from here,” Rina says and then N-iP01357 feels his arm lifted, pulled towards the treadmill and held momentarily under a scanner.

The scientist that isn’t a doctor leaves the room and Rina comes towards him.

Softly she says, “I’ll need you to remove the top half of your uniform, so I can attach these -” she holds up some adhesive discs that N-iP01357’s had stuck to him before “- but then you can put it back on again.”

N-iP01357 does as he’s told, standing perfectly still as she applies four of the little discs across his chest with gentle hands. They’re probably the gentlest hands N-iP01357 remembers feeling. When she steps back N-iP01357 dresses himself again.

“The machine will start slow and build slowly as we progress,” she explains, indicating he should step onto the part of the machine that will soon move, “If you need to stop simply grab the railing on each side and put your feet onto the edges. You don’t need to ask permission to stop. Do you understand?”

N-iP01357 nods but the machine doesn’t start so he turns to look at Rina more fully. She stares at him expectantly and slowly he realises she wants a more obvious confirmation.

N-iP01357 swallows and says, “Yes,” his voice rough from disuse. He tries to remember the last time he spoke and struggles.

Rina _smiles_ at him, a pretty quirk at the corner of her mouth and then she steps back, pressing a few buttons so the machine slowly comes to life beneath N-iP01357’s feet.

“Why is this one underweight,” Rina says into the office.

The other one makes a noise, like she was a bit startled by the question then says, “Code?”

N-iP01357 hears Rina’s sigh, but he can’t a imagine the other doctor can. She reels off his designation and even from across the room N-iP01357 can hear the noise of the other one typing it into the keyboard.

“He’s on 88% rations,” she says.

“ _What_?”

“Says he has a slow metabolic rate. Were concerns he would easily become overweight.”

Rina splutters slightly then says, “Well clearly they were wrong.”

The other one laughs, “Look. I can put him up to 94% but if what we think is happening to his eyes is true then he’ll be transferred soon and it won’t matter.”

N-iP01357 struggles to understand what any of this means. He didn’t realise he was in less than optimal condition. Surely someone should have caught this earlier? And what’s wrong with his eyes? He can’t even begin to understand what _transferred_ means.

“Why do you even care?” the one at the desk asks, “Nutrition is well below your pay grade.”

Rina pauses, and it takes all of N-iP01357’s self control not to look at her.

“I can’t get the results he wants with shoddy equipment.”

After a while, when N-iP01357 has progressed to moving at a speed that shortens his breath a little, there’s some sort of commotion to the west of them. There’s a loud crash and a scream, then several voices all talking at once.

Both Rina and the other doctor turn, but N-iP01357 knows better than to do so. He’s curious, he’s always _curious_ , a majority of his punishments over the years were handed down because he asked _unnecessary questions_. But he’s better now, has more control, better self awareness.

“Go help,” Rina says, “I’ll watch - watch this one.”

The door opens - the ruckus sounds louder, the pained cry from earlier is back, heightened to a howl - then closes and he’s alone with Rina. He hears her footsteps approach, she wears those shoes with a thin heel that must be desperately uncomfortable, and then softly her fingers touch his shoulder.

N-iP01357 starts so badly he almost loses his footing and Rina shushes him, making a soft soothing sound with her mouth that touches something right on the edge of N-iP01357’s memory. Then almost so gently N-iP01357 thinks he’s imagining it her fingers move up, running through his hair. It falls between her fingers, getting displaced and ruffled, N-iP01357 must be due a haircut soon. Her fingers pull through his hair again, with more purpose, fingertips just brushing his scalp and N-iP01357 feels a hot rush of tears well unexpectedly and inexplicably in his eyes.

Rina shushes him again, “It’ll all be over soon. I promise. Its almost over.”

N-iP01357 hears the promise in her tone but doesn’t understand what she really means.

But he knows he feels something warm and comforting in his belly he’s not ever felt before.

\- - Eight - -

N-iP01357 is confused.

And his head hurts.

He’s usually so good at this, shooting perfectly into the centre ring on target.

Sometimes they replace the round targets with ones that look like people and they ask N-iP01357 to shoot at the small target in its head which he doesn’t like to do so much.

But recently he’s been struggling, not able to make his eyes focus on things more than a few metres away. He’s still managing to hit the target but not with his usual finesse, still up to the standards of many people in his group. Unfortunately for N-iP01357 they don’t measure success against a baseline but against your previous performance.

Its with almost no surprise then that N-iP01357 is escorted - along with two others in his group - straight back to his bunk room rather than being taken to the food hall.

Unless the schedule changes, and N-iP01357 really doesn’t think its due a change, he’s got a really active day tomorrow. They’ll be going outside, running and climbing things.

N-iP01357 can’t imagine how difficult that's going to be when he’s already so hungry its bordering on pain.

-

He’s been in a fitful sleep for a few hours when it happens.

The loudest noise N-iP01357 has ever heard sounds somewhere in the distance followed two seconds later by the lights flickering on and every alarm and siren in the facility blaring all at once.

For a long time after than nothing happens.

Its impossible to hear _anything_ over the alarms so he has no way of gauging what anyone else is reacting to this or try and work out what’s happening.

Then, all the alarms cut out and the doors in his row unlock all at once.

N-iP01357 recognises the noise, as it happens every morning for the early roll call, but he recognises _nothing_ that happens after.

He edges to the door of his room and peers out, seeing many of the others doing the same thing, and half a dozen people - soldiers - dressed all in _black_ come striding into view. They seem to come up short, staring at them all stood in their doorways. They’re holding guns but one by one they all holster them, tucking small ones into straps on thighs and strapping longer ones across their back.

“Holy shit,” one of them says, “They’re kids.”

“I thought the others were lying,” another one says, “They’re all kids, all of them.”

“What do we do?” says a third, barely above a whisper. She comes to a stop before N-iP01357 and crouches down. She raises a hand and N-iP01357 recoils on instinct, stepping back into his room.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she says and N-iP01357 is surprised to see her eyes look _wet_.

“Get the Marshal on the line,” the first one says, “We need new orders.”

He hears someone else talking then, a short distance away and a reply slightly distorted by whatever communication device they’re using.

“We’re gonna get you out of here,” the woman in front of him says, “You’re all getting out of here.”

-

Outside - the _real_ outside - is _bright_.

So bright that N-iP01357 recoils from the light at first, having looked straight up at it as he was lead out through huge set of doors, middle position of his line.

His line is just one of _many_.

N-iP01357 understood that there were others here, lots of others, but he hadn’t understood the scale. There are many people that he sees, every day or near enough, and some he sees only once or twice.

N-iP01357 can’t possibly describe how many of them there as he follows the person in front of him through the churned up snow. There’s some taller - older - than him and some smaller. Lots of the smaller ones are _crying_ , some of them being carried by these strange soldiers in black.

These soldiers are different to what N-iP01357 has experienced before. They’re kind and they _smile_ , using soft words to move them along and lead them out of the facility.

It’s _cold_ outside too. N-iP01357 wouldn’t say that inside is warm, but they don’t normally _touch_ the snow and their uniforms don't seemed designed for the drop in temperature. Slowly, as his line moves forward, water seeps into his shoes.

N-iP01357 doesn’t care.

The warm feeling is back in his belly, the feeling he can’t put a name too. N-iP01357 hasn’t ever been anywhere but here but he also can’t imagine anywhere being worse, even if he doesn’t really know what _better_ means.

As he gets closer to the fence he realises that its been split open in several places, holes torn wide with transports waiting beyond them, soldiers ferrying units back and forth.

Someone's waiting for them at the end of their line - two someones he realises as they get closer - and they’re scanning their barcodes with the tablets and then sending them off to different transports based on something they see.

Three people ahead of them, the girl that N-iP01357 had helped to her feet all that time ago has her wrist scanned.

“Arianna?” says the woman who scanned her.

The girl freezes and then she sobs, a noisy startling sound that makes N-iP01357 flinch.

“It’s alright,” the woman says softly, “We’re going to get you home now. It’s going to be okay.”

There’s a man stood beside the woman and he waves a soldier over - he looks like a soldier too but he has a long sword strapped at his hip and his uniform is just different enough from everyone else's to be noticeable. When he arrives he glances at the screen the woman is holding and then says, “Transport 3A.”

“Almost full, sir,” the soldier says.

“I know,” he responds, “I’ve called for more and they’re sending some as soon as possible. The government is trying to pretend they didn’t know this was happening. They’re being very _accommodating_.”

The soldier holds out his hand to the still crying girl - _Arianna_ \- and she takes it, trembling slightly. She struggles to walk though and N-iP01357 can just hear the soldier ask if its alright to pick her up, scooping her up gently when she nods.

The next two people in line also get given new designations.

The first one gasps when they say it, nodding frantically and whispering _thank you, thank you_ over and over.

The next one seems to not understand, shaking their head and trying to take a step back. They collide with N-iP01357 and he put his hands on their back to stop them falling over.

“It’s okay,” the woman says in a soothing tone. She tries the designation again this time adding a second word and the boy ahead of him actually drops to his knees, shuddering.

“It’s alright,” the woman says, “I know. It must be so confusing, but we’re gonna look after you.”

He’s lead away and then N-iP01357 steps forwards, holding up his wrist automatically.

He’s scanned and the familiar beep sounds. The woman smiles and taps at the screen. Her face falls.

“I don’t think it worked,” she says which makes no sense because it _beeped_.

“Lets try again,” she suggests and N-iP01357 raises his arm again. She scans and the same beep happens but her face doesn’t change.

“Sir?” she says, voice shaking, “Cor, you need to see this.”

N-iP01357 feels his chest tighten and his breath grow short.

“Hey, hey,” the woman says, dropping to her knees in the snow. That must be _cold_ , N-iP01357 thinks, feeling guilty. She passes the tablet off to the man, he looks at it intently, scrolling through the information and she carefully puts her hand on N-iP01357’s arm.

“You’re okay. Do you know what your name is?”

N-iP01357 shakes his head, he doesn’t even know what a _name_ is.

“Your name? What do they call you…”

N-iP01357 feels a stab of relief and with a croaky voice starts, “N-iP013 -”

“No, no,” the woman says and N-iP01357 feels panicked anew because that’s _wrong_. He’s wrong. He’s wrong and he doesn’t understand, “Before you came here. What were you called before you came here.”

N-iP01357 shakes his head again and whispers, “I’ve always been here.”

“Monica,” the man says, also squatting now he hands the tablet back to her.

He has very blue eyes, N-iP01357 realises, as he looks properly at the man’s face for the first time. They should be cold but they’re not and N-iP01357 relaxes under his gaze.

“This can’t be right,” the woman - _Monica_ \- says, “How is this right?”

The man shakes his head and gently places his hand onto N-iP01357's head, ruffling his hair, “We won’t know until we get into the system properly.”

“Where do we send him if he - if he didn’t come from anywhere?”

N-iP01357 feels another stab of panic that he’s going to be left behind. That everyone else will leave and he’ll be left here. All alone.

“I’m going to Gralea,” the man says, “If he really doesn’t have anywhere else to go that may be the best place for him.”

“I hope you’re right,” Monica says.

“Me too,” the man says then, “Monica? Think of a name for him, he can’t go on thinking that's what he is. It's not right.”

\- - Nine - -

Prompto has to sit on his hands to keep from fidgeting.

“There you go,” the optician says, sliding a pair of glasses onto his nose, “That’s better.”

Prompto blinks as the world comes into crystal clear focus around him. All the letters on the wall behind her are suddenly easy to read and he looks - stares - at the picture above that. A weird cartoon of a bear with an eye-patch.

“How’s the fit?” asks the nurse that bought him here today. Its not the one that had bought him here originally, when they’d put the weird thing in front of his face and swapped little bits of glass in and out and asking him if it made his vision better or worse. This one doesn’t smile quite as wide but she smells nicer - kind of like the juice he gets with breakfast on a Sunday morning and he likes that.

“Prompto?” she prods and it takes him a second to realise he’s the one being spoken to, as it always does. He understands now that the code he used to go by isn’t what people consider a name and he never should have had one in the first place. Outside is so odd. He wonders if he'll ever get used to it.

Prompto nods in reply, then works out that's probably not an adequate answer. The glasses haven’t fallen off so he says, “Good.”

-

Prompto likes school.

It gives him a routine for one, and up until now his entire life has been routine. He’s almost ten now, apparently, which means he has to change where he lives. But they can hold off until November, they say, so they can transfer him and Tobin at the same time.

Which is good, Prompto thinks, because he likes living with Tobin.

He’d gone to live with a _family_ for a while but the other child they had didn’t like how quiet he was and he was barely there four weeks before they bought him back. Tobin had been gone when he got back, living with a family of his own, but he’d returned too, because, Tobin says, they were having a _real_ baby after all.

Prompto had needed to ask one of the nurses what that meant.

The answer made him happy and sad at the same time.

Prompto doesn’t really like the other kids though. Or, more accurately, the other kids don’t seem to like him very much. Sometimes one will talk to him, play with him for a while and then they’ll catch sight of his _tattoo_ or someone will whisper in their ear, pointing at him and they scamper off to play with someone else.

His teacher is a nice lady and on the days Prompto doesn’t feel like running around the field by himself she lets him sit in the classroom during breaks to practice his reading.

He’s behind the other kids, but catching up fast. Mostly because he likes reading, likes reading stories about things that aren’t real.

At first he hadn’t understood the purpose of story books but now he doesn’t understand what he ever did without them.

On a particularly rough day - Prompto had vomited his morning snack all over his desk and suffered the teasing for it since - the teacher gently tugs the book away from his hands and passes him a sheet of clean paper and a handful of coloured pencils.

“What do I do?” Prompto asks.

“Whatever you want,” she says, “Draw something you like.”

Prompto scrunches up his face, trying to think of things he _likes_.

He likes being able to see properly, even if some other kids make fun of his glasses. He likes Tobin, but doesn't thinks he can draw a person. He looks at the front cover of the book, there’s a couple there, stood amongst some trees with a dog at their side.

Prompto likes dogs. He _loves_ dogs. The man that lives across the road from the children’s centre has a dog and he’ll bring it outside on Sunday mornings so they can all pet her on their morning walk.

Prompto roots through the pile of pencils for a brown one and slowly, while the other kids play tag outside in their coats, he draws his first picture.

\- - Ten - -

Every two months the children’s centre has an open day, where they invite couples and families to visit and try and entice them into taking a child or two off their hands.

Prompto and Tobin had got picked up at the last one, by an okay couple that didn’t talk much but also had a spare television for their bedroom and didn’t make them go to sleep until an hour after their normal curfew.

But then the couple had to move, so they bought the boys back to the centre. Not empty handed though, they’d let the boys bring the console from their bedroom and it was kept in the communal area so now they had to _share._ Prompto doesn’t mind that as much as Tobin does, he likes seeing other people happy almost as much as he likes being happy himself.

And he’s still the best at it. Still has all the high scores.

They have to bathe the night before the open day, wash their hair and put on their best approximation of nice clothes. Prompto has to wear his school trousers and a slightly too big checked shirt that had come out of a donation bag just last week.

“We’ve gotta stick together,” Tobin whispers to him as they stand in a line with all the other kids waiting to pass the matron’s inspection.

Prompto nods.

“I wanna go together, or stay here together,” Tobin carries on.

Prompto nods again, more enthusiastically.

Prompto generally prefers _not_ being at the children’s home since they moved him to this one. The matron here tends to make him feel bad, and there aren’t as many nurses around so less people are willing to talk to him. Plus, the kids go all the way up to _sixteen_ , and some of the older ones seem to _like_ getting in trouble. So they pick on him and Tobin and they sneak out at night or don’t come home from school which means, inevitably, someone yells everyday.

Prompto doesn’t like yelling.

On days when there’s too much yelling Tobin has to shake him awake because he makes too much noise in his sleep.

Prompto really hates yelling.

The matron looks him and Tobin over with a critical eye that makes Prompto squirm, remembering days spent being prodded and poked, forced to perform tasks and get assigned grades that he never saw -

“Take off your sweatband,” the matron snaps, even as she straightens Tobin’s collar.

“But people don’t like my - the mark,” Prompto mutters, dutifully tugging it off.

“It’s dishonest, covering it up. Imagine if someone were to want you and _then_ find out where you came from.”

Prompto’s learnt that most people that grew up in his facilities found homes with their actual families. Maybe not their _parents_ but close. Grandparents, an older sibling, an aunt or uncle. There are others like him he's told, who had no living relatives and ended up in the foster system like he did, but Prompto’s never met one. He’s never met anyone else with a mark like his, not since he left the facility.

There had seemed to be an endless sea of people outside the facility that night and yet in Prompto’s mind they’d all vanished into the wind the minute the nice man with blue, blue eyes had left him at the hospital with little more than the new name the woman Monica had picked out for him.

The Matron leaves them alone then, and Tobin drags him by the wrist over to a table where they can sit together, Tobin reading through a well worn comic while Prompto draws with some coloured pens, trying not to look too sad or too nervous.

Slowly the people filter in.

Tobin and Prompto get a fair amount of attention, owing mostly to the fact they’re the youngest here and eventually Tobin gets drawn away from him by a couple, distracted by the fact they’d entered the centre with a box _full_ of donations. They’re young looking with kind faces, the woman has silvery long hair that makes Prompto's chest _hurt_ just a little.

It’s not her. Its not Rina, Prompto will never see her again, but he likes to think of her, when he feels like things are really bad and it helps him remember that things can get better. That there’s never a reason not to _hope_.

Prompto’s adding leaves to his tree when the plastic chair beside his is dragged away from the table and he looks up just as man with dark eyes and hair drops into the low chair.

“Hi,” The man says, “I’m Alec.”

Prompto swallows, “Hello.”

The man smiles kindly, warmth in his eyes, “Do you have a name?”

For a moment the question takes him back to that day in the snow, water seeping into his shoes and not understanding what it is to even have a name.

“Prompto,” he tells him, thinking of Monica’s soft hands on his shoulders asking if its _okay? Do you like it?_

“That’s an interesting name. Are you not from around here?” Alec asks.

Prompto shakes his head, nervously tugging on his sleeve. It backfires of course bringing Alec’s attention to the mark instead of hiding it and Prompto’s old enough to understand recognition when he sees it.

“I didn’t know,” Alec says and somehow his voice is still kind, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Prompto looks up quickly, “It’s okay.”

“My little sister had one of those,” Alec says and Prompto drops his pen in shock, “So I understand how hard it must have been for you in there. And I suppose, how hard it must be for you here, too.”

“Oh.”

Alec smiles, but it seems _sad_ now. “She was much older than you though, when they rescued you all, I doubt you would have known her.”

Prompto shakes his head, “They separated us by size - age. I think. Maybe.”

Alec chuckles, “I’m sure.”

They lapse into silence for a long moment and Prompto retrieves his pen, adding another leaf to his tree.

“You like drawing?” Alec asks and Prompto turns back to him, nodding enthusiastically.

“You’re good at it,” Alec says, “Better than me.”

Prompto bites his lip to stifle a giggle, and he pushes the paper towards Alec and holds the pen out to him.

“You won’t be upset if I ruin it?”

“No,” Prompto promises, pressing the pen into his hand.

Alec adds a wonky leaf next to one of Prompto’s, a little too big to really fit but Prompto likes it anyway.

“It’s good,” Prompto says, “I dunno what to draw here.” He taps the blank space on the ground next to his tree.

“Well what else do you like?”

Prompto thinks about it, like he had the first time he’d drawn something and finds his answers are much the same.

“I like dogs. And cats!” Prompto says, remembering the cat he saw the other day. A stray, skinny thing that had run off when Prompto approached but then he’d asked one of the nurses about it and she’d gotten him a book off the shelf _full_ of cats.

“Anything else?”

“The chocolate pudding cups we get sometimes. And - and running.”

Alec smiles so wide Prompto can see his teeth, “Okay, what are some things you _don’t_ like?”

Prompto scrunches his nose and without thinking blurts, “Snow.”

Alec laughs. “Wow kid, you really have it rough huh?”

Prompto giggles again, shaking his head.

“Hello,” says a new voice and he and Alec turn as one to look up at the woman that's just appeared standing by the table.

“Hi, Hon,” Alec says, “This here is Prompto.”

“Hello sweetie,” she says smiling wide so Prompto gets to see her teeth too, her smile dims as she turns slightly to look fully at Alec, “Work just called, we’ve gotta go, I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Alec says, “Okay, well I’ll - hey, we can come back another time?”

“Of course,” the woman says, “I’d like to get to know little Prompto, too.”

“Would you like that, Prompto? If we came back to talk to you another time?” Alec asks, turning to look at Prompto.

He nods before Alec’s even finished talking.

“I’d like that a lot,” he murmurs.

Alec grins, “We’ll see you real soon.”

And Prompto waits expectantly every day for two whole months for them to come back, so he can talk to Alec some more and learn the lady’s name but they never come. Only when the next open day rolls around and they don’t visit then either does Prompto stop perking up every time the door to the children’s centre opens.

-

One day Prompto is running around the field at school, sprinting round and round to try and burn off some excess energy he has thrumming through his veins. Tobin is across the field, kicking a ball around with the other kids, he’d invited Prompto along but he’d seen the way they’d glared, heard their grumbles and refused the invitation.

“Argentum!” a rough voice calls and Prompto comes to a halt so fast he slips a little on the icy ground.

“Sir,” he calls back, spinning and jogging over to where the P.E teachers is stood.

“You’re fast kid,” he says. He’s a gruff man, but nice enough. Always stops the other kids in class when they start to throw things at Prompto, makes sure he’s partnered up with Tobin for group sports.

“Um, yes sir,” Prompto says.

“You like running?”

“Yes sir, very much sir.”

The teacher snorts, rubbing thoughtfully at his jaw.

“You thought about joining the track team? We need middle and long distance runners.”

Prompto has thought about it but -

“I can’t afford the uniform,” Prompto explains shyly.

“Hmm. You’re a foster kid, huh?”

Prompto nods, his cheeks warming.

“We can get you a uniform from the second hand box,” the teacher explains, “Kids always leave stuff behind when they leave school, or donate it when they grow out of it.”

“Really?” Prompto asks.

“We meet three times a week after school, think you can manage?”

Prompto nods, excited for the first time in a long time.

“I’ll give the form to your teacher, you get it signed by whoever is in charge of that stuff and come see me tomorrow at lunch, okay?”

“Yes sir.”

\- - Eleven - -

The woman Prompto lives with at the moment is called Maria and she’s from _Lucis_.

Maria loves Lucis and when Prompto had asked why she doesn’t still live there she’d told him that while she loves Lucis she loves her husband more and her husband has to work here, in Niflheim.

Selfishly Prompto is glad, because he likes living with Maria. Its the place he’s liked living with most. Even though Tobin isn’t here.

Tobin has been with the Aterros for almost a whole year now and Prompto had missed him in the evenings where he was largely alone, even for the brief few weeks where someone else had some to the children’s home and had slept in the bed that had always been Tobin’s.

“What do we have here?” Maria’s kind voice asks from over his shoulder.

Prompto twists in his seat, proudly holding up his drawing. Maria always loves everything he draws and last week she’d given him a small digital camera and told him it was his to keep. Forever.

He’d filled up the storage in it that first day and had sat for hours, deciding which memories to keep and which to throw away until Maria’s husband had come home from work with a small card that he’d slid into Prompto’s new camera and made the available space increase by an almost unfathomable amount. Prompto had beamed at him and gotten a gentle head rub for his trouble. He doesn’t like Maria’s husband as much as he likes Maria because he works long hours and isn’t home very much but he always smiles at Prompto and his hands give him gentle affection in passing.

“That’s so good, Prompto. You’re so talented,” Maria gushes and Prompto blushes.

It’s Sunday so Prompto doesn’t have school and that used to make him sad but its not so bad here. It’s snowing outside though which means Prompto can’t go outside to chase cats.

He’s allowed to, Maria says, Prompto just doesn’t want to.

“I bought you some books yesterday,” Maria says, lowing herself down onto the floor beside him.

Prompto looks at her hands, reads _Wilds of Lucis_ , and sits up more alertly, smiling in a way he hopes encourages her.

“I thought we could look at more animals, because you like them so much and I could tell you more about Lucis because you seem to like that too.”

“Lucis has animals? Isn’t it a City?”

Maria smiles, “Lucis is a Country. Like Niflheim. Here Gralea is the Capital,” she pauses to make sure Prompto’s understood and he nods to indicate he has, “Insomnia is the Capital of Lucis - oh I know it sounds scary but it’s not, I promise.”

“Did you live in Inson - Insomnia?” Prompto asks, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.

“Mhm,” she affirms. She puts the books down, pushing the one with animals to the side and pulls forward what seems to be a large book of photographs and flicks to somewhere near the middle. She shows him a double page spread of a tall building, imposing but _beautiful_.

“This is the Citadel, where the King lives and for a time I worked here, it’s where I met my dear Ansel when he was visiting Insomnia many years ago now.”

Prompto nods, awed by the building but distracted by all the little things around it too. Bright twinkly lights and smaller buildings. Lots of paths and roads and not an inch of grey slush in sight.

“No snow?” he asks.

“Almost never,” Maria says and Prompto’s eyes go wide making her laugh. She ruffles through Prompto’s hair, longer than ever because _she_ didn’t make him cut it a few weeks ago when he’d let her know he was due.

Prompto wants to keep looking at it, look at more of this magical place _Insomnia_ but Maria is sliding the other book on top of it and starts to turn pages.

Prompto sees thing after thing that he’s never seen before, awed all over again that there are still so many things he doesn’t know.

Maria stops flicking and spreads the pages out. Prompto’s breath leaves him in a rough puff of air.

“Prompto?” Maria says, concern in her voice.

He sits up straight in his chair, struggling to find words like he so often does and instead pats the page with his hand, wishing beyond everything that he could actually _feel_ the creature beneath his hand.

Maria touches his hair again, stroking softly and says, “Sweetheart, is something wrong?”

“What - what is it?” he manages to croak.

“That’s a chocobo,” Maria says and Prompto mouths the word silently.

He traces a finger over one of the yellow things its covered in, “And this?”

“Those are feathers,” Maria explains, “Chocobos are a type of bird, and they’re covered in all these soft feathers that protect them from weather and help them glide through the air.”

Prompto’s still all wide eyed, unable to comprehend.

“Do you like them?”

Prompto nods so fast it almost hurts and pats at the picture again.

“So yellow,” he says.

“They come in other colours too,” Maria says, “Would you like to see?”

Prompto nods and takes his hands away from the picture. “Please,” he breathes.

Maria turns the page and Prompto gets to see _more_ chocobos. More yellow but also one the colour of rust, a soft grey and in the middle of the pack, obviously preening, jet black with feathers shining under the bright sun.

“Oh,” he says softly, “I don’t - what. Where?”

“They live wild in Lucis but also some people keep them as pets -”

“Like _dogs_?”

“Kind of. They’re good for travel and they’re affectionate, good with children.”

She touches Prompto’s nose and he starts a little, breaking off to laugh.

“Travel?” Prompto asks, wondering if he misunderstands the word.

“They’re very strong,” Maria tells him, “And if you treat them kindly and give them somewhere nice to live they let you ride them.”

Prompto rears back, whatever on his face makes Maria laugh again and she gently tugs him back into her side.

“I want - can I?”

“One day,” Maris says, “One day you can do whatever you want.”

-

Prompto turns twelve in two weeks and yesterday he got bought back to the children’s home.

He doesn’t quite understand why.

There had been a lot of commotion in Maria and Ansel’s house recently and last week Ansel had come home and said to Maria that _it’s happening, I’m sorry_ and then when she’d whispered something Prompto couldn’t hear he’d shaken his head sadly and said _they said he’s not allowed_.

Maria had been tearful as she packed up, placing his camera and some of his books into his bag.

She’d asked if she could take some of his drawing with her and he’d agreed, obviously, letting her pick from all of them. She’d taken the first chocobo he’d drawn, that very same day she’d shown them to him, painstakingly copied from the book and a painting he’d done just a few days ago of a pretty lake he’d never seen but imagines exists in Lucis somewhere.

They’d given him a parting gift, Ansel had handed it to him as they walked to the car, a bright yellow chocobo toy, insanely soft to the touch and big enough that Prompto could bury its face in it’s belly and pretend he’s not upset.

 _I’m sorry_ they’d said over and over again, walking him all the way up to his old room and settling him in. He’d heard Maria’s sob as they walked back down the stairs and Prompto had cried too, soaking through his new toy.

Prompto’s not enjoying school today. He’s tired and feels sick, a stomach ache that won’t go away even though the nicest nurse in the children’s home had given him some medicine and thinned down his porridge.

He sits outside on a bench during lunch not eating the rations - the food - he collected from the cafeteria.

“Prompto,” Tobin says, sitting down next to him, “Are you still feeling sick?”

Prompto nods and offers up his food to Tobin who takes it and eats halfway through his sandwich before he speaks again.

“The Aterros are taking me on a trip this winter, while school is out, somewhere were it actually gets _warm_.”

Tobin sounds so excited that Prompto smiles for his friend, asking where it is they’re going.

“Not sure,” Tobin mumbles, mouth full of bread, “But it’ll be better than here.”

Prompto agrees but can’t muster up much of a conversation. Tobin seems content, thankfully, just to sit together for a while.

When Prompto’s birthday rolls around his stomach ache is finally easing up and he goes to school, plays with Tobin during break but sits inside drawing over lunch. After, he has track team and he runs and runs and runs, eating his dinner with the team like always and being pleased that they’ve warmed to him a little. He supposes its hard to really dislike someone when they’re helping secure the trophies lining the cabinet in the Physical Education department.

Back at the children’s centre Prompto goes straight to his room - the other bed is empty still - and looks through the pictures on his camera.

After an hour or so a nurse knocks on his door and enters with a soft smile. She passes him his favourite chocolate pudding cup and whispers, “Happy Birthday, Prompto.”

All in all its not the worst day Prompto’s ever had.

\- - Twelve - -

Prompto’s gotten big enough that he can climb up over his chest of draws to sit himself on the window ledge and peer down at the streets of Gralea. It’s snowing - when _isn’t_ it snowing? - but there’s a couple wandering the streets slowly, leaning into each other with their fingers linked.

Prompto understands that they _are_ a couple. That they probably _love_ each other.

Love is a thing Prompto’s always struggled to understand. He doesn’t know if he’s really ever experienced it himself. He knows its easy to say he loves things, chocolate pudding and peanut butter sandwiches, but he's been learning that's not the same as what he’s witnessing now.

A few days ago, at school, he’d been there when the Aterros were dropping Tobin off for school and he'd overheard Mrs Aterro leaning down to tell Tobin quietly that she _loves him very much_.

And Prompto thinks that kind of love is different too.

\- - Thirteen - -

He only lasted four days in this home.

It’s a new record, not just for him, but for the children’s centre at large.

“You never said he has night terrors,” the man barks, pushing Prompto further into the room. One of the nurses bustles around from the desk to him and crouches to take his bag and help him shed his coat.

“That’s because he doesn’t _have_ night terrors,” the nurse argues and Prompto can tell that her tone is even only with great effort, “He just has bad dreams sometimes.”

She offers Prompto a sad little smile and he tries to return it but is worried about changing his face too much. A few other kids are downstairs and Prompto would rather not cry in front of them.

“Well he has something and its annoying. Kept us up half the night, they don’t give us enough money to deal with shit like this.”

“You’ll need to sign him back over,” the nurse says and she waves one of the others out of the little room they sit in to drink coffee and then takes Prompto’s hand.

“I need to take my stuff upstairs,” Prompto mumbles as she pulls him towards the tables and bookcases in the corner.

“We’ll do that a little later,” the nurse says, “I know you weren’t gone long, but we got a little gift while you were away.”

She leads him around a corner and Prompto sees that one of the desks has been requisitioned to hold a computer.

“Oh,” he says, surprised.

“I know, a nice company donated some of their surplus computers to shelters and libraries around the city and we were lucky enough to get one. Now, there’s a few games installed if you’d like to play or you can have a look at some things on the internet.”

Prompto settles down into the chair and takes the mouse in hand. He’s used computers a little at school, as part of the curriculum, but also before. In the facility.

Prompto thinks he might very well play one of those games but first he wants to satisfy his own curiosity.

Pulling up the web browser Prompto types _night terrors_ into the search engine. It’s only a couple minutes reading for Prompto to realise the nurse was telling the truth, he doesn’t have night terrors. He just has bad dreams sometimes.

Maybe a lot of the time.

\- - Fourteen - -

Prompto’s seen pictures of schools in Lucis.

Seen pictures of kids in shorts and vests, sprinting across finish lines in bright sunshine.

He probably should _stop_ researching Lucis on the computer whenever he gets the chance but he’s _fascinated_. Always has been fascinated, ever since Maria had spoken so fondly of home and maybe even before that, when the soldiers from Lucis had come and rescued him from hell.

At Prompto’s school the year round track team uniform is dark green long pants and a sweater with matching under-layer to keep them from freezing to death on the start line. Prompto’s uniform is still second hand and its honestly kind of gross but he can’t afford better, no foster parent has ever been willing to buy him better. Being on the track team means he gets an extra school funded meal three times a week so he’s stuck with it.

Shitty foster-parents like it when you don’t eat into their profit margins and good ones just like it when you do shit.

Plus, Prompto's still _really_ fast.

Next year when he starts high school - assuming he makes the team - his uniform will be grey.

Just like everything else in Gralea.

As he jogs his final loop of the track a light snowfall starts up and Prompto wrinkles his nose in disgust as a single flake tries to settle on the end of it.

“Yo! Argentum,” a familiar voice calls across the track at him.

Prompto grins, waving at Tobin and picking up the pace again to run right over to him.

“Hey,” Prompto says when they’re feet apart, smacking his hand against Tobin’s where he’d raised it, “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Tobin says but he seems to be avoiding Prompto’s gaze, looking out across the track over his shoulder.

“What’s up?” Prompto prods, starting to feel uneasy.

“The Atteros are gonna adopt me,” Tobin blurts, “Properly. For good.”

Prompto feels elated and crushed all at once. He and Tobin currently live _together_ at the Attero’s home and while its amazing – _wonderful -_ that his friend is getting to stay with them forever but if they’re taking him on _legally_ , then Prompto’s probably getting sent back to the children’s home.

Again.

“That’s great,” Prompto manages to say, “I’m so happy for you. The Aterros are great.”

“Sucks you can’t come too,” Tobin says, looking distraught.

“It’s okay,” Prompto rushes to reassure him. He’d never expected to get to stay forever - not anymore. His childish visions of finding a _forever home_ have long since drifted away, “We’ll still see each other at school.”

They’ve been separated before, for a long time before right now. Not many people are willing to take on two boys at once, even less since they hit their teens, but the two of them had always kept close at school.

Tobin’s face crumples a little and he shakes his head.

“We’re moving,” Tobin admits, “Ma - Mrs Attero got transfered over to near Ghorovas Rift for research.”

Prompto’s stomach drops right out through his feet.

He’s losing _Tobin_.

He’s the only thing Prompto’s had as a constant since he left the facility. The closest thing to family. They’d arrived at the children’s home around the same time. Two lost boys in need of each other.

Prompto had only ended up with the Atteros at all because of Tobin. They’d moved, Tobin had told him, to a big house with spare rooms and they’d mentioned fostering to Tobin - both because they could afford to and also to avoid the empty-room tax that Prompto knows exists but doesn’t fully understand - and Tobin had immediately asked if they could take Prompto.

“Oh,” Prompto says, then dares to ask, “Do you know when they’re taking me back to the home?”

“They’re not,” Tobin rushes to assure him, “They’ve organised another foster family for you. We’ll take you on Sunday. And I’ll be here until the end of the school year.”

That’s _something_ at least. But Prompto can’t muster the same enthusiasm as Tobin.

“We can write to each other,” Tobin offers and Prompto agrees to the plan, somehow knowing it won’t last.

\- - Fifteen - -

“Prompto, is that you?” calls his current foster-mother as he closes the front door behind him.

He’s their only foster child - housing him purely for the government stipend, he’s sure - and his foster-father’s shoes are already by the front door so Prompto’s not sure who else she thought he might be.

“It’s me,” he calls back.

“Come into the kitchen,” she says.

Prompto toes off his shoes and lines them up neatly next to the others, heading off towards her, trying not to think about the amount of work weighing down his backpack.

“Everything okay?” Prompto asks before he’s fully rounded the door.

Everything is not okay.

Prompto knows that as soon as he enters the kitchen properly. There’s two cardboard boxes on the table, his full duffel bag on the ground by the table, and his foster-father looks up at him coldly as continues to place Prompto school books into the one box that remains open.

Prompto supposes he’s going back to the children’s home. All that remains to be seen is _why_.

“I ran in to Mrs Delano earlier, she and he daughter were at the market when I went to pick up things for dinner.”

“That’s nice?” Prompto suggests.

“Don’t be smart,” his foster-father snaps.

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbles.

“Clarissa said she saw you at school today,” she carries on to say.

“Well, yeah - we share some classes.”

“After school, specifically.”

Prompto stomach sinks, knows where this is going, knows there’s only one thing she could have seen that was worthy of gossip and he feels so dumb, so stupid that he hadn’t been more careful. Hadn’t been more _private_.

“Behind the gymnasium. With the Wayland boy.”

His foster father makes a low noise that Prompto takes to mean _disgust_.

Prompto had been expecting that.

It hadn’t been difficult for Prompto to work out he was gay. Not once he understood what attraction was and realised he didn’t feel it the way a lot of other boys did, had no desire to stare at girls across the field and instead has to tear his eyes away from the soccer team when they stretch before practice.

It didn’t bother Prompto much, that people don't approve of the way he is, not when he in turn disapproves of _so much_ Niflheim stands for.

He’d found things online that had helped, web pages based in Lucis with advice and discussions.

In Lucis, Prompto knows, he can get _married_ to a man if he wants, while here they might get jeered at for walking down the street holding hands.

“I knew you were going to be a problem,” the man snarls, “They must have _broken_ you in that facility. I’ve read about it online. So many of you are a mess, all twisted up and _wrong_ inside.”

“There’s nothing - I’m not broken because I like _boys_ ,” Prompto argues.

“Enough!” his foster-mother snaps.

“I’m taking you back to the centre,” she says. “Pick up your things, we’re going now. We don’t want someone like you in this house.”

They could have waited seventeen days, Prompto thinks, then they would have got a big payout before the government shipped him into _monitored housing_ as a sixteenth birthday present. They must _really_ hate him.

It’s almost funny.

-

The children’s home isn’t exactly _happy_ he’s back, but Prompto doesn’t mind handing out dinners to the younger kids and helping the nurses change beds so they, at least, seem pleased to see him.

 _I’ve read about it online_ , he'd said.

 _Prompto_ hasn't read about it online. About his former life. About where he came from. He hasn't wanted to, it never occurred to him that anyone would want to, that there was anything to even say.

But what if there was?

It starts simply enough. Prompto digs up old news articles about the rescue, mostly choosing things like _Insomnia Daily Times_ and _Lucis Today_ when he realises Niflheim’s records of the events leave a lot to be desired when you were one of the children rescued.

At first he doesn’t find anything particularly interesting outside speculations in comments sections, talk of cloning and genetic experimentation - but Prompto thinks that’s dumb. He was in there, he saw the other kids, they weren’t clones, they didn't look alike. He remembers all the injections, all the testing, but that's not the same. It doesn't mean anything.

But then, by chance, he comes across an article that directs people to a _database_ of all the children rescued, encouraging them to enter the names of their children that were missing, that had been _stolen_.

Prompto clicks the link, hidden in the back of the library, eighteen hours before he’s due to move homes again and without really considering his actions types in his name _Prompto Argentum_.

Nothing.

No results.

At first it doesn’t make sense because Prompto was there. He knows he was there. But then -

He never was Prompto Argentum in that place, never was anything but the number still branded into his skin.

He doesn’t need to look at it, to remember. He’ll never forget those numbers, the countless times he recited them at roll-call, scanning his wrist beneath a blue light to open up a door or dispense his food.

For a second he thinks nothing is going to happen but then it does, a page loads with his designation number at the top, followed by a list of information.

He skims most of it, he already knows his date of birth and his blood type. What he really wants to know is -

_Mother: Not Applicable_

_Father: Not Applicable_

_Place of Birth: First Infantry Training Facility_

That’s impossible. It’s _impossible_.

Everyone else has parents listed, but where are his? On a whim he types in a name he remembers - _Arianna_ \- and it throws back almost a dozen different entries. Each and every one lists a mother and a father.

Every single one.

But not Prompto.

He closes out the window and buries his face into his palms. Mind reeling.

Where did he come from?

Genetic experimentation. Cloning.

He doesn’t want to believe it but -

“Argentum,” calls the librarian and Prompto startles so badly he sends the textbook he was pretending to reference skittering across the table, “We’re closing up for the day, time to head home.”

\- - Sixteen - -

“You’re in room E,” his home monitor says, handing him a second key, “Keep it locked when you’re not inside. You all share the kitchen, I’ve added you to the jobs rota. Don’t skip out on them, I’ll know and we’ll reduce your privileges.”

Prompto nods, shifting his bag higher on his shoulder.

“Don’t let me catch you with alcohol, its a pain in the ass and a tonne of paperwork for me to do,” they say and Prompto notes they don’t tell him not to actually _drink_ the alcohol even though its not legal.

Because sure, Prompto’s old enough to live by himself and apply for a weapons licence, but he’s not old enough to drink or drop out of school. Makes sense.

“Curfew is 10pm every day,” they carry on, “But I can’t check every day, so just don’t be a dick. Yeah?”

“Sure,” Prompto says.

“You got issued your phone and your computer?” The person asks and Prompto pats the bag hanging by his thigh, holding both the new items.

“They’re crap but don’t break them because you have to go on a list to get new ones and you’ll probably age out of the system before it happens. Internet cuts off between 11pm and 7am every day. If you need to tell me something non-emergent email me but if it _is_ an emergency call, my numbers already in your phone.”

“Got it,” Prompto says.

“An emergency is anything in the ‘shit the house is on fire' category or above, not 'my girlfriend broke up with me and I’m sad', just so you know.”

Prompto kind of wants to point out that second one won’t happen but also isn’t in the mood to maybe get the kind of look he sometimes gets when he tells people that actually he has a _boy_ friend. Kind of. He and Chase aren’t technically a couple because Chase actually _has_ a family and will absolutely get disowned if they find out. But he and Prompto sneak away to kiss behind the gym pretty much everyday and Chase lends him comic books whenever he’s done reading them so Prompto’s pretty happy.

It’s nice to be _wanted_.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Prompto says.

“They explain the food vouchers to you?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “Do they get delivered here or -?”

“I’ll drop them by on the first of every month,” he says, “Check with your house-mates, they’ll tell you the places that’ll let you buy stuff not listed on the back of them. Just - again, don’t let me catch you with beer.”

Prompto actually smiles.

“I think that’s it,” he says, “I’ll be here tomorrow when you’re all back from school - bus picks up at the end of the street to take you across town if you need it, so settle in today and let me know tomorrow if there’s anything you need.”

-

Prompto’s house-mates are fine, really.

Only one of them actually goes to his school, and they walk together past the bus stop along the main street. They don’t share any classes though and Prompto _tries_ to make a connection but his housemate's clearly not interested so mostly their walk is silent but not altogether uncomfortable.

Prompto walks back alone after his track practice and the house monitor is there when he lets himself back in. Prompto lets him know that everything is fine - and Prompto thinks it really _is_ fine, he likes the independence already - quickly empties the trash and wipes down all the counters as per his chore list for the day and then heads to the market to buy food.

He only has a few vouchers - there’s barely a week left of the month - but Prompto can already tell its not really enough. He’s not going to _starve_ , exactly, but he might be a little hungry pretty much all the time.

Prompto can’t even fathom spending some of them on beer. What would he _eat_?

As he heads back inside the house he runs in to _two_ of his house-mates heading out. They’re dressed differently to each other but obviously in uniforms.

“You guys work?” he asks as one of them stops to hold the door open for him.

“Yeah,” he says, “Kinda need to supplement the support you know. Plus, the clothing allowance is only for school uniforms and judging from the look of you you’ll probably grow out of all your jeans soon.”

Prompto actually only has _one_ pair of jeans right now and they’re kind of pushing the boundaries of what _long enough_ means already. He’s thankful for his boots, really, or his ankles might freeze.

He chooses not to allow the dig at his height to bother him. When he was much younger a nurse had said he might be a little _stunted_ because he’d spent the first eight years of his life _borderline malnourished_.

“Right,” Prompto says, “Makes sense.”

“There’s a web-address for a job site stuck to the fridge,” he calls back to Prompto as he walks away, “Might want to have a look.”

\- - -

Prompto has a favourite food store that he likes - _not_ one that will let you buy beer - but its on the way home from school and is usually staffed by a girl around his age. She plays the kind of bass heavy rock music that Prompto likes and never looks at him askance like some of the other stores do when he counts out his food vouchers.

The store is warm too, almost too warm, when you come in bundled up in scarf and coat but it means that the girl bares her arms a lot of the time, sitting behind the counter in ripped jeans and a tank top.

The first time Prompto sees her tattoo he drops the can of tomatoes he was holding right onto the floor.

“You dent it you buy it,” she calls but when Prompto manages to look up at her face she’s smiling, “You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Prompto says, “I just -”

“You like my tattoo?” she asks.

“Yeah, it’s amazing - beautiful. All the colours.”

Prompto didn’t know that tattoos _could_ look like that. He’s seen tattoos other than his own of course, but they’d all been black too. Clean lines, calligraphy, portraits. The girls arm is almost a mess of colour, swirls and pictures that take Prompto a while to work out.

“You got any?”

“No,” Prompto lies, knowing his wrist is securely covered by a sweatband.

“That’s a shame, think they’d look good on you,” she says.

She _might_ be flirting with him, but he can’t be sure. Either way his cheeks flush and her grin stretches.

“Know where I can trade food vouchers for one?” Prompto teases and she throws her head back when she laughs.

\- - -

[Chase 21:01] come outside

[Prompto 21:02] what?

[Chase 21:02] baby come outside please

Prompto’s liked looking at Chase since the very first time he looked at him. He likes _touching_ Chase more, likes being touched by him in return.

He pushes his tongue into Chase’s mouth and feels his boyfriends hands clutch at his shoulders.

“So,” Chase says, pulling them apart, “You like my car?”

“It’s a car,” Prompto says, having no opinion either way.

Chase smiles and touches Prompto’s jaw, “What time’s your curfew today?”

“Monitor doesn’t visit today. So. Never?”

“Nice,” Chase says and he tugs at Prompto until he’s shifted to swing a thigh over Chase’s lap and settle there, “This okay?”

“More than,” Prompto says, ducking down for another kiss. Carefully he edges his hands up underneath Chase’s shirt. It’s warm in the car, they’d had the heater running while Chase drove them around and it still lingers now they’ve parked up somewhere secluded.

Chase is all toned muscle under his clothes and he lets Prompto pull off his shirt without arguments.

“What you doing babe?”

By way of an answer Prompto palms between Chase’s legs where he’s pulsing and hard for him.

Chase chokes on an inhale, “Wait, you sure? We don’t have to just because you had your birthday -”

“I want to,” Prompto says and he does. He wants to more than anything. He’s been thinking about this for longer than he cares to admit, wondering what it’ll be like, trying to practice…

Chase surges up to kiss him, slipping a hand under Prompto’s shirt to grab at his waist, the other palming his ass. Together they wriggle into the back seat and Prompto learns how to finger himself open for a cock in a cramped three door car.

\- - -

“You’re just taking orders for now,” his manager tells him, “And you just punch in the code for what they order and it goes automatically to the kitchen. Then you pick it up from the shelf behind you, bag it all up and send the customer on their way.”

“Got it,” Prompto says because he’s already been trained, had spent four hours here yesterday shadowing one of his colleagues. But he’d been warned about this, that their boss likes to _feel_ like he’s doing all the work even though he actually does next to nothing.

The pays isn't _good_ exactly but it's just above minimum and should allow Prompto to save up for a decent camera. Eventually.

“Work a six hour shift and you can have a free burger and a drink,” his manager explains.

Prompto nods, but he can’t imagine how much of the food he’ll eat here, even if it _is_ free. The air is already making his skin itch and its almost everything his has to stop his nose wrinkling at the smell of hot oil.

\- - Seventeen - -

Prompto quits the track team in favour of working more hours, running early in the mornings instead. He knows what he wants and what’s going to be useful for him going forward. He _wants_ a camera and his stack of track meet medals and certificates mean less and less to him as time goes on.

In the mean time he still uses the camera he got from Maria all those years ago. The screen is cracked and there’s a nasty dent in the side from where he slipped on some ice a couple years back but by some miracle it still works.

He saves most of his money, but keeps some to the side to supplement his meals and for occasional trips to a Lucian import store two streets over from where he bags burgers and fries five times a week, to treat himself to a _foreign_ candy bar once in a while.

He gives in to peer pressure on his birthday though and he and his house-mates take a trip over to the one store that both doesn’t bother to ID people and will readily exchange food stamps for whatever the fuck you want. Buying enough beer for the six of them to waste an evening gathered around their tiny TV taking turns on the shitty _third_ hand console one of them had bought with his last months pay check.

\- - -

Things with Chase were never going to last, Prompto always knew that.

Yet when Chase breaks up with him to start a _real_ relationship with a girl he rebounds _hard_. Its dumb and he’s stupid but he still does it _again_ when the next guy decides he only wants Prompto for what’s under his clothes and Prompto enjoys sex, sure, but he likes all the other stuff that comes with a relationship too.

\- - -

Prompto’s been in the camera store plenty of times by now, so frequently that the owner smiles and nods at him when he enters. Prompto smiles back, elated, because today is the _day_. Today he’s buying his new camera.

He’s saved every penny he has and he has more money in his bank account than he’d ever thought possible. He doesn’t just want new, he wants _good_. Wants to not have to replace it again for a long while.

Prompto strolls right up to the counter and point at the shelf towards what he knows is a Lucis imported model -

“The Lokton LX-30, please,” Prompto says.

The owner’s eyebrows shoot up and he grins, “No way, you’re actually buying today?”

“You bet,” Prompto says. He’s bought before, memory cards and battery packs but he’s been _looking_ at these cameras since he’s been old enough to explore the city by himself.

“You need the different sized memory cards because its a Lucian model, you know that?”

“Yes,” Prompto says at once, “I have enough for one of those too.”

“You got a decent carry case for it?”

Prompto shakes his head, feels a little heat crawl up his face, “Next time. I’ll be super careful with it until then.”

The owner takes the box down from the shelf and looks at Prompto for a long moment before he pops it onto the front desk and then ducks down to retrieve something from beneath it.

“Here,” he says straightening up with a black camera bag in his hands, flattened down to fit in its clear packaging, “On the house. Part of the loyalty program.”

“Oh my gosh,” Prompto blurts, “Thank you, _thank_ you.”

The owner smiles, “You’re very welcome. It’s nice to meet a real enthusiast, they’re a little thin on the ground here.”

Prompto almost skips from the store with his purchases secure in his bag and just a _little_ money left on his bank card. The camera store is a few blocks away from the Lucian Import store and he’s feeling some of the really good _spicy_ ramen so he ducks inside, getting a smile from the owner of this store too.

He’s perusing the packaged foods aisle when he spots the magazine rack.

He’s bought a magazine or two in his time, Lucis puts out a photography magazine every other month and Prompto’s bought it every time he’s had the spare money, and for his birthday he’d treated himself to a copy of _Lucis Geographic,_ spent hours pouring over the nature photography and reading every word. Today though he sees one that’s simply called _Inked_.

On the cover is a full shot of someone’s back and Prompto feels a low swoop in his belly at the broadness of the shoulders and the muscular definition in his arms but he’s also fascinated by the intricate lines and shading that makes up the fully realised angel wings etched into the skin.

Prompto wishes _his_ tattoo were that beautiful.

The price tag is most of his remaining money but it leaves him just enough for one pack of ramen and a six-pack of the lemonade he likes.

Prompto scoops them all up and heads over to the cash register.

“Get everything you want?”

Prompto nods, “Yeah, thanks.”

“You’re one of the only people that eats this ramen, kid, sets my mouth on fire,” she says as he scans it and passes it over to Prompto to add to his back pack.

“I _like_ it,” Prompto defends, “The ramen they make here is _weak_.”

“The food here sucks,” she concurs, “The thing I miss most.”

“You’re from Lucis?” Prompto asks, surprised, even though it shouldn’t really be that shocking considering the shop that they own.

“Lestallum born and raised,” she replies and Prompto nods. He’s looked at a map of Lucis enough times that he can point out Lestallum easily.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Lucis,” Prompto admits, “I’d love to see the Citadel.”

“One day, kid,” she says.

It’s a rare snow free day so Prompto takes all his belongings to one of the grey squares they call a _park_ and wedges it between himself and the edge of a bench to sit out in the fresh air and read his magazine.

Lucis puts a lot of meaning behind it tattoos, he learns, a place called Galahd has many tattoos for many things. Many of them decorate even their _faces_ and embellish their hands. Prompto’s fascinated, tries to picture himself with more tattoos, tattoos that he’s _chosen_ and it doesn’t feel the same as when he looks at his wrist. He likes the idea, maybe he even loves it.

Prompto wonders what he might get one day, wonders what they might mean to him.

Right in the middle of the magazine is a focus piece on a parlour right in the middle of Insomnia and Prompto absorbs the info like a sponge, reading the interview with owner, a man called Malcolm, and tracing the lines of the tattoos they showcased.

 _Insomnia Ink_ , its called.

\- - Eighteen - -

Prompto knows he has to make a decision and that he has to make it soon.

But he just doesn’t _care_.

Six options they’ve given him. Six different vocational courses to choose from. Six different lives to choose from.

None of them are inviting. None at all.

He’d prefer to go to a _proper_ university, where he could do history or literature. Or art. Except he can’t do art, because no university in Niflheim provides an art degree. They just don’t exist.

He’d asked his guidance councillor about it when the further education chats had first started and he’d simply said that they were a _frivolous waste of resources_.

And that was Prompto told.

But Prompto can't _afford_ university. Niflheim doesn’t do scholarships, doesn’t support kids from low income backgrounds. Almost no one from his school has the money to go to university, all of them being funnelled into the same vocational system as Prompto.

In the back of his mind Prompto thinks of Chase, on a straight track to Gralea’s central university, and then suffers a surge of guilt because Prompto has a _new_ boyfriend now. Tall and broad shouldered just the way Prompto enjoys. He’s not the biggest talker, sure, but he’s nice to Prompto, doesn’t mind curling up in his small bed when they’re _finished_ and keeping Prompto warm.

In the end Prompto just picks whichever course comes with housing and means he'll need to move the shortest distance and becomes an apprentice engineer with click of a single button. He closes out the web page on his laptop and goes back to the software he uses to edit photographs, trying to ignore the _Insomnia University_ tab he’s had open for weeks now.

\- - Nineteen - -

He’d applied on a whim.

That’s not to say he didn’t put effort into it. He definitely had.

Hours and hours of effort. Spending almost all his free time over the last month pouring over the application and rewriting his essay again and again in an attempt to sell himself as something _good_ for the first time in his life.

But he’d never expected to get _in_. He’d never expected to get accepted with more than a half dozen scholarships that meant he could actually, financially, go.

Except he _can’t_ go.

Can he?

 _Why_ couldn’t he go? What had Gralea ever done for him? What does he have keeping him here?

A barely-even-a-boyfriend? A shitty job tossing fries into paper bags? A government funded education that he gives absolutely no shits about?

Could he go? Could he go and never have to come back?

Is such a marvellous opportunity really possible for him?

It’s not like he _couldn’t_ be happy here, maybe, if he tried harder. Carry on with technical college and get his engineering certification, learn how to build and maintain airships or something.

Prompto doesn’t _need_ to do art full time to be happy. He doesn’t.

But he wants to, with every fibre of his being he _wants_ to.


	2. Noctis Lucis Caelum CXIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto's first foray into friendship has unexpected results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to update this at least once a week but unlike Saturation I don’t have tonnes of this written and ready to go.  
> I got a bit stumped for the first half of this when Noct was acting like a little bitch and not playing along with what I'd planned. Also, fuck past me because the timeline I set out in the first chapter of the main fic is bonkers. Don’t look too closely at it. Please and thank you.

“No way,” his classmate - _Noctis, Noct_ \- says, raising his voice to normal levels now their discussion isn’t going on under the droning of their math professor.

“It’s beautiful, dude,” Prompto argues.

Noct’s eyes widen slightly and then he grins, “It undermines the original style. I don’t understand why they remake thing if they’re just gonna _ruin_ them.”

“Re-making something does not undermine the original, it still exists, you can still play it. Let those of us with good taste get to re-experience the glory of _Justice Monsters III_ and you can stay at home with your gross low-polygon count.”

For Prompto it’ll mostly be _experience_ it as he didn’t get to play it as kid. He’s not about tell Noct that though.

He’s not had _bad_ experiences telling people he’s from Niflheim exactly, but there’s been a lot of wide eyes and lingering looks. Except that one border guard that had demanded _every_ piece of identification Prompto could possibly have _and_ his student visa _and_ a copy of his university acceptance letter before he’d let Prompto off the ferry.

Prompto had a rough time on the ferry _anyway_. About halfway between Accordo and Galdin he’d discovered his phone just _didn’t_ work in Lucis.

It was an unexpected expense he wasn’t prepared for and he’d suffered a brief momentary panic when he’d dropped _half_ the money he managed to save up before the big move on a new phone and adapters for all his chargers.

But _then_ he’d gone to a little corner mart not far from his new apartment and everything was just _so_ cheap. And varied. Prompto’s going to be able to eat more than ever. And then the words _keep an eye on his intake_ rattled through his head and he’d tucked the processed snack foods he’d never even _seen_ before back on the shelf, hesitating over the veggies in their whole processed forms and grabbing cans of what he’s more familiar with instead.

He’d exchanged his Niflheim money at the port kiosk in Galdin rather than at his bank in Gralea after researching online because, seriously, fuck the exchange rate in Gralea. Somehow in all his online research the phone thing had never come up.

Noct groans at his side, throwing his notepad into his back pack with little ceremony. Prompto barely registers the students that file past them, looking at them slightly askew. Prompto looks different from almost everyone here and sometimes people stare at him. He’s trying to get used to it because there's nothing he can do about it.

“Hey,” Noct says then, sounding a little nervous, “Have you got a class now? You wanna grab a coffee?”

“I’ve got a little time before my next one,” Prompto concedes. He probably doesn’t have the money, but if he orders the cheapest -

“Wait,” he says, “How the hell do you drink coffee in this heat. It's _relentless_?” Prompto likes it though, he just wasn't _prepared_. Some of his savings had also gone on additions to his wardrobe to stop him passing out from heat exhaustion every other day.

Noct laughs, “With ice, dude, where have you been? And this summer has been _mild_.”

“For you maybe,” Prompto says without thinking, “In Gralea I’d still be throwing salt on the front steps so I don’t break my neck in the mornings.”

There’s a beat of silence where Noct stares at him and Prompto thinks he’s ruined this first proper move towards friendship he’s made in years.

“You’re from Niflheim?” Noct asks and Prompto can’t place his tone.

“Yeah,” Prompto mumbles, “Fucking sucks.”

Noct is smiling when he says, “I’ve heard that before.”

“When IU offered me a scholarship I fucking waved bu-bye to that snow and jumped on a boat, dude.”

Snickering Noct punches him lightly on the shoulder, an unfamiliar but welcome show of camaraderie.

“Let my buy you a coffee to welcome you to my - uh, the city.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Prompto says. He starts walking across the ugly ass carpet on the stairs and notices that Noct is flagging behind a little, walking slower than Prompto would have expected. Prompto falls in to step beside him, shortening his stride to match.

Noct leads them to a little coffee stand in the main square and when Prompto bumbles his way through what he wants Noct laughs and orders a second one of what he ordered. Which is how Prompto falls in love with a sweet, vanilla iced latte.

As they take a seat Noct is focused on his phone, one hand tapping quickly at the screen. For a second Prompto thinks he’s playing King’s Knight and tries to work up the courage to ask for his code but _then_ he realises he’s texting, a little frown between his eyes.

Noct is the reason Prompto found King’s Knight in his first place; distracted by the colours on his phone from the seat behind him in their very first class Prompto had spent his lunch break in the app store on his new phone, finding it fast and then getting so distracted he forgot to eat and was late to his Solheim Arts seminar.

“Everything okay?” Prompto asks.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, just needed to let my friend know something, sorry.”

“No,” Prompto says, “If you’re busy I can -”

“ _No_!” Noct insists frantically, “I’m not busy.”

Prompto stifles a laugh, “You never told me your major.”

“Technically undecided. Probably poli-sci,” Noct says with zero enthusiasm.

“Not what you want to do?”

Noctis shrugs, “Getting a degree in fishing doesn’t really line up with the old family business, you know.”

Noct eyes Prompto speculatively, like Prompto’s response really matters and he has to swallow down his nerves before replying.

“That doesn’t seem fair, like, you should get to do what makes you happy,” Prompto says gently.

Prompto’s only just come around to the idea of putting your own happy above what’s expected of you _himself_ , but he doesn’t like the idea of someone else - someone fun and kind - being trapped on a similar path to what almost happened to him.

“It’s not like that,” Noct assures him, “I get to be happy plenty.”

Prompto’s fun buzzes in his pocket, a ten minute warning for his next class to save him from his own track record of losing sense of time.

Insomnia is _beautiful_ , okay, and Prompto’s fascinated by everything. Tall imposing, dark building that are somehow still awash with colour and lights. He’d gotten within good camera distance of the Citadel last week and wasted an entire afternoon filling up a memory card. It’s an incredibly imposing sight and Prompto’s not even a little disappointed he’ll never get to go inside.

He’d gotten to know his way around the city in the week before classes start by running around to pick up and drop off job applications, walking his camera around and taking in the architecture and the _parks_. Prompto knew that Lucis as a whole was pretty green but hadn’t realised that Insomnia itself would have tried to preserve so much of that within its walls.

“You got class?” Noct asks, face pinching a little.

“ _Solheim Arts_ , yeah.”

“Sounds lame,” Noct teases and it takes Prompto a short minute to recover from his laughter.

“Uh huh Mr Introduction-to-Political-Theory.”

“I’d argue with you,” Noct says, “But that’s literally my after-lunch class.” He takes a long sip of his drink then gestures with the cup, “I’ll walk you over.”

“Ah, thank dude. I’m actually still getting used to this campus,” Prompto admits, “So glad most of my classes are in the same building.”

“It _is_ kind of a maze. Hey, uh - can I see your phone?”

Prompto digs it out of his pocket, unlocking the screen before handing it over. Perhaps he should be a little more cautious about letting a near stranger invade his privacy like this but he gets a _vibe_ from Noctis and he trusts him.

Noct does something and then a noise pings from his own pocket.

“I sent myself a text and I’ll, uh - text you after class if that’s okay?”

Noctis has really pretty eyes, even when they’re nervous like they are now, but otherwise he’s the furthest thing from Prompto’s type as possible. Doesn’t look like he could lift Prompto above his head _at all_.

“That’s more than okay,” Prompto says and then biting the bullet adds, “You should text me your King’s Knight code, got a feeling I’m a _mile_ behind everyone else.”

Noct grins, “Dude, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

When they get to the double doors leading into the art building Noctis raises his fist and Prompto bumps it with his own.

His scholarship adviser is going to be so _proud_. Prompto’s pretty sure he just made a friend.

-

[Noct 14:21] my professor looks like he was alive during the peak of solheim civilisation

[Noct 14:22] you know. if you need something from that period to draw

[Prompto 14:25] dude, this is not one of those classes where I get to draw

[Prompto 14:26] it has a book assigned to it and everything

[Noct 14:27] woah. let me guess. same name as your professor?

[Prompto 14:28] *gasp* what do you know, it is

-

[Noct 16:51] i’m a dick and this is short notice but do you wanna grab dinner tonight? have you been to forresters yet?

[Prompto 16:52] dude, i have work right after class. otherwise i’d totally be all over that

[Noct 16:55] bummer

[Noct 17:01] where do you work?

[Prompto 17:03] sakana. sushi place between a car dealership and a tea place. on the edge of the shopping district

[Noct 17:04] i know it! your tuna rolls are good but man your soy sauce is wack

[Prompto 17:05] all soy sauce is the same. you’re crazy

\- - -

One of his professors had strongly suggested they purchase themselves an easel if they want to be serious about art – something about posture. Prompto’s _nothing_ but serious about art but he’s also just on the right side of broke so buying new is out of the question.

Feeling brave he’d struck up a conversation with an older student while taking advantage of the school’s art supplies to work on a bigger project and he’d taken advantage of the fact she seemed more interested in giving guidance than friendship, absorbing every tip she had for getting through his first year of school.

If he was lucky, she said, one of the charity shops might have a second hand easel going for cheap and such is how his hunt began.

It isn’t a successful hunt, and he’d had his first pay-checks without getting lucky. What he ends up coming home with, a few days before he’s due to go for _pizza_ with Noct, is a small second or third hand TV that costs less than half of the money he’d blown at the art store when his scholarship payment had come through.

It’s a terrible TV, small with a couple dead pixels in one corner, but it does in fact work and a little ingenuity means Prompto can stream his _Moogleflix_ account to it for background noise while he slogs through the less fun parts of his school work.

\- - -

[Noct 21:04] dude. no. absolutely not. astral wars 5 is the worst one

[Prompto 21:05] what are you talking about it? it has that sweet fake out in the final fight scene, gets me every time

[Noct 21:06] you’re so lame

[Prompto 21:08] oh. sorry

[Noct 21:08] what no. prom its a joke.

[Noct 21:09] i don’t think you’re lame okay?

[Prompto 21:10] well thats a relief

[Prompto 21:11] though not sure why i’d care about the opinion of a guy with such bad taste in movies and video games anyway

[Noct 21:12] oh fuck you you little bitch

[Prompto 21:13] ha ha (^_-)v

\- - -

The woman on the phone had told him, in no uncertain terms, that _Insomnia Ink_ haven’t had an apprentice in years but if he comes by on Thursday afternoon Malcolm doesn’t have an appointment booked and Prompto will be able to show him his portfolio.

He hadn’t had a portfolio until he’d applied IU - and then he’d had to _scan_ the whole thing onto a computer at the library - so Prompto scrambles that back together, adds new drawings and graphic pieces to bulk it out and show the breadth of his skill.

There’s a cheery little bell that chimes when he pushes open the door, seemingly at odds with the clean but punkish aesthetic. There’s a couple powered down fluorescent lights that Prompto’s dying to see all alight.

Prompto’s shoes make an attention drawing squeak on the white tiled floor as he approaches the front desk - maybe soon Prompto will get to _sweep_ that floor.

“You alright, Kid?”

Prompto makes himself focus on the person speaking, eyes flitting over all the ink on his arms, trying to pick out words before taking in the kind smile and the effortless and oddly familiar swoop of dark blond hair.

“I’m here to - to see Malcolm,” Prompto says, stuttering slightly with his nerves.

“He doesn’t have any appointments,” the guys says confidently but he drags a book across the desk anyway, as though to check.

“Oh, um, no,” Prompto says, “I spoke to someone on the phone - Ruby, I think. And she said I could come in and show him my portfolio, I’m Prompto.”

The guy looks up from the appointment book, eager now, “Pass it over.”

Prompto pulls it from his messenger bag - the zipper gets caught on the ring binding of a sketchbook he always keeps there and Prompto’s face flushes brightly as he untangles them - and hands it off feeling uncomfortable and nervous.

“I’m, Elias,” he introduces myself, and Prompto’s mouth drops open in shock. Prompto knows _exactly_ who this is.

“Oh, oh man, I - I totally love your work,” Prompto enthuses, thinking of the number of times he’d read Elias’ interview in the second copy of _Inked_ he’d ever bought, “I didn’t realise you worked _here_.”

“You subscribe to _Inked_?” Eli asks as he unzips Prompto’s portfolio folder.

“I used to buy it when I could,” Prompto says. He hesitates and adds, “A Lucian import store in Gralea used to get it sometimes.”

Pointless to hide that he’s from Niflheim when he’ll _have_ to tell them to be technically employed here. Even if he’s not working for actual money. If that’s going to be held against him, if the people here are prejudice against him for that then he’d rather know straight away.

“Niflheim doesn’t have its own tat magazine?”

Prompto snorts, “No.”

Elias grins, flicking through a few pages, “Let me grab Malcolm.”

Elias disappears behind the staff door and comes back a scant minute later with a tall dark skinned man on his heels. Some of Malcolm’s tattoos seem to have faded a little over time but there are more, bolder and brighter all over.

Prompto wonders if _his_ tattoo will fade over time but it’s been about fifteen years already and it hasn’t changed a dot in all the time.

“Apprentices are a lot of work,” is the first thing Malcolm says. He flicks through Prompto’s portfolio for a minute, Elias stood by his shoulder. Occasionally Elias point at something and Malcolm makes a _noise_ , but doesn’t say anything.

Elias catches Prompto’s eyes and winks, Prompto feels his shoulders relax a little.

Malcolm flicks a little more then surveys Prompto’s form, taking in the all the pale bare skin.

“You don’t have any tattoos,” Malcolm points out.

“No - not yet,” Prompto says. It’s _white_ lie, he convinces himself.

“Why not?” Elias asks.

“I want it to mean something,” Prompto says at once, “I don’t want to put something on my body and regret it later. I want it to look good and be done by the best. And, well - you guys are the best.”

Elias smiles properly and Malcolm huffs but there’s just the slightest uptick in the corner of his mouth.

“Can I see your sketch book?” Elias asks.

“Oh,” Prompto says stunned, “Sure, but it’s - it’s just a rough one, practice for school.” He’s pleased that his voice is holding steady but his nervousness seems to have focused its self in his hands and they tremble a little as he passes it over.

“You get credit if you do this?” Malcolm says, “At that school of yours?”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t want to do it for that. I can graduate without credits for this it’s just - this what I wanna do. I wanna help people get what they want on their bodies. I know that tattoos mean so much for so many people and that - that means something to _me_.”

“Why not wait until _after_ school?” Elias asks, turning pages and not looking up.

“Why wait?” Prompto retorts, “This is what I want to do, I don’t want to wait three years to start.”

Prompto loves photography and he never wants to stop taking pictures but this…

From the moment Prompto had first opened that issue of _Inked_ \- maybe even from the moment he saw that girl’s arms, swirled with colours - this has been it for him. He wants to do this, create this, permanent, quantifiable, meaningful _art_.

“Why here?” Elias asks, still without looking up.

“You guys are the best, and I wanna be the best too.”

Malcolm huffs again and closes Prompto’s portfolio.

“Look, kid,” Malcolm starts and Prompto knew this was likely to happen, knew that _Insomnia Ink_ didn’t really take on apprentices and even if they did they probably wouldn’t take on some punk kid fresh off the boat from Niflheim.

“You’re talented,” Malcolm concedes, “Full of potential but I just have no interest in having an apprentice. I’m done teaching.”

“It’s okay - thanks for -”

“I’ll do it,” Elias interrupts.

“What?” Prompto and Malcolm say at the same time.

Elias looks up from Prompto’s sketchbook and shrugs at Malcolm, “You don’t want to deal with an apprentice. Fine. Let me deal with him. You might be done teaching but I’m not.”

Malcolm squints at Elias, “You never mentioned this before.”

“Never found the right student before,” Elias says plainly.

Prompto flushes but there's a little bubble of pride swelling in his chest.

Malcolm and Elias stare at each other for a really long time - Prompto has to clench his fists to stop from fidgeting - until Malcolm suddenly takes a step back, putting his palms up in defeat.

“Go ahead.”

Malcolm excuses himself into the backroom and Prompto allows himself to relax, leaning into the front desk.

“Elias,” he says, “Thank you. I can’t - thank you. But why -”

Elias puts his sketchbook down on the table between them and turns it to face Prompto, tapping one of the pages.

It’s a mess of a page, a collection of rough sketches; a bird Prompto had seen on his run that morning, a small pile of apples and a couple attempts at a carbuncle - a mischievous creature from Lucian mythology that Noct had been telling him about.

“You’ve got _something_ ,” Eli says, “I wanna know what that is.”

Prompto grins, face colouring again.

“Okay, first things first, Blondie,” Elias says, “Start calling me Eli. Secondly, lets look at your schedule and get you enough hours in here that it’ll count for that credit.”

“There’s paperwork and stuff - if we do that,” Prompto says. He really _doesn’t_ mind if he doesn’t get credit for this, he meant every word he said to them before.

“Let me worry about that,” Eli tells him.

-

Prompto leaves _Insomnia Ink_ almost an hour later with a tentative schedule in place - every Sunday and alternate Wednesday mornings - and a reminder in his calendar to make an appointment with his adviser to pick up the forms to register his apprenticeship formally.

He asks Eli if there’s anything he wants Prompto to do in the mean time and his answer is to just _draw_. Which Prompto can certainly manage.

The sun beats down on his neck as Prompto starts the walk home, pulling his phone from his back pocket.

He turned the ringer completely off while he was inside but the light is flashing up a storm to let him know there are messages waiting.

[Noct 13:57] break a leg buddy!

[Noct 13:58] that’s what you say to you arty types right?

[Noct 14:04] okay iggy says that’s just for actors

[Noct 14:04] so good luck! i guess

[Noct 14:26] results?

[Noct 14:45] dude don’t ghost me how did it go?

[Noct 14:51] prrommmmmmmmmmmm

[Noct 14:52] telll meeeee

[Prompto 14:55] I got it!

[Prompto 14:56] well kinda. owner said no but one of the other artists took me on

[Prompto 14:56] noct he’s so cool, holy shit

[Noct 14:57] dude. well done. so proud of you

[Noct 14:58] hope you still have time in your schedule for little old me

[Prompto 14:49] dude i’m getting a NOCT stamp all ready for you to use in my diary

\- - -

“You’re joking?” Noct says and he lets his menu clatter to the table.

Prompto can’t even begin to explain how great this pizza place smells. Better than anything he’s ever eaten before - his newly expanded Lucian diet not withstanding.

“Cheese is so expensive in Gralea dude. We don’t have any cows. It's all imported,” Prompto tries to joke over his embarrassment.

Noctis stares at him, mouth open.

“Dude,” Prompto says, laughing as he reaches to flick Noct’s forehead. Not very hard, just enough to jerk him back to life.

Noct sputters, swatting at Prompto fingers.

“Tell me you’ve had fries, and soda, and like hamburgers,” Noctis begs.

“The essential food groups? Of course.”

Noct glowers at him, “I mean it!”

“I used to work at a burger joint - and a slice of cheese almost doubled the price of the burger, which was, compared to here - super expensive anyway.”

“Seriously?” Noct asks, frowning,

“I didn’t know it when I lived there but _everything_ is more expensive. _And_ your minimum wage is higher. Niflheim is bonkers, I don't wanna have to go back.”

Not to mention, Prompto adds in his head, the couple decades they’d let children be abducted into _facilities_ designed to train them in to _weapons_. Definitely not mentioning that. Maybe Noct doesn’t even know about it, maybe he wouldn’t know even if he _did_ see Prompto’s tattoo.

“We - I mean _they_ are actually thinking of raising that again soon,” Noct tells him.

“Holy shit you’re actually learning stuff in class,” Prompto says.

Noct flushes, gives him the middle finger and says, “You’re the worst.”

It took Prompto a couple goes round to realise that when Noct says shit like that he doesn’t _mean_ it. What he’s actually saying is usually something in the realm of the complete opposite.

“Oh man if they raise the minimum wage I’ll actually hand write a note to the king or something,” Prompto muses.

Noct chokes on his drink, his flush deepening.

“I’m sure he’d really appreciate that,” Noct says once his coughing has subsided, really badly holding back a grin, “You know nothing about the royal family, huh?”

Prompto shrugs, “Their house is _beautiful_ ,” he says and Noct laughs again. Prompto pats the menu and pushes it towards Noct, “Now pick me a pizza suitable for a beginner.”

“What say you to pepperoni?”

Prompto looks at him blankly, “I have no idea what that is.”

Noct drops his head onto the table with a dull thunk.

\- - -

Sometimes, Prompto notices, Noct gets super shy, going so far as to duck behind things when he there’s tonnes of people milling around or getting bashful right before he asks Prompto something.

Today he’d pulled a ballcap from his bag as soon as they’d set off away from campus, pulling it low down and covering his face. They’re on the way to the closest mall so Noctis can grab a book for classes but have been thoroughly distracted in the video game store on the way. Prompto wishes he could afford the console Noct has but it’s just not going to be on his radar for a while. Maybe if he takes up full time hours during the summer break -

But.

Would he be _here_ in the summer? Or would he have to pack up and try and survive in Niflheim for two months?

Shit.

Prompto needs to check his visa.

Prompto hadn’t even thought of that. He’d signed his acceptance, packed up and moved to Insomnia with no aim of ever going back, he’d left _everything_ behind. He had nothing to go _back_ to and he wouldn’t get any support after he quit the -

“Prom - Prompto?” Noctis shakes his arm gently and his friend swims back into focus in front of him, “You okay - you look -”

“I’m fine,” Prompto reassures him, “Sorry, spaced out.”

Noctis doesn’t look convinced and he obviously flounders for a second, “You wanna go get a drink or something - you look really pale.”

Prompto forces a laugh, “I’m always pale.”

Prompto loves hanging out with Noct, don’t get him wrong, its always the highlight of his day but Noct likes to grab food or drinks as he focus of their time together and though he always offers to pay Prompto hasn’t let him since that first time.

He doesn’t know what Noct’s financial situation is but it seems to be wildly different from Prompto’s and he’s loathe to take advantage of Noct’s generosity.

“I dunno, little more Lucian sun and you might just turn into one giant freckle.”

Noct pokes his cheek and Prompto makes an embarrassing squeak as he dodges the second one and bats him away. The shop assistant clears their throat loudly when their scuffle takes them close to one of the displays.

“Sorry,” Prompto says around a smile as Noct snickers from slightly behind him.

Noct isn’t wrong about his freckles. They’ve sort of _exploded_ since he got here. He always had them over his entire body, tiny faint things that had been barely visible when he first left the facility and had darkened up a little when he got to go outside regularly. But here under the sun - a real sun not something eternally covered by clouds - they’ve darkened and spread more and more, clusters over his cheeks and the tip of his shoulders where he’s cut all the sleeves off his shirts.

Seriously, he had _not_ been prepared for the difference in weather.

They leave the store without buying anything and Prompto has to all but shoo Noct towards the bookstore.

Honestly, its like Prompto cares more about his grades than Noct does.

Noct grabs the book he needs without fanfare then drags Prompto over to the comic books, complaining the whole time about the limited selection.

“You’ve seen comic books before, right?” Noct says, waving one in front of his face.

Prompto just stares at him. Since the _I’ve never eaten a pizza_ conversation Noct’s taken to asking him about all kinds of random shit. Most of it Prompto’s _has_ seen if not experienced but every single time he hasn’t Noct’s brain basically implodes. Apparently.

Prompto super enjoyed eating that pizza, but dear gods did it make his stomach hurt the next day.

“So - uh,” Noct starts, all nervous again. Prompto finds it kind of cute but in the way a dog chasing its own tail is cute _not_ the kind of cute that makes him want to climb that guy in the coffee shop like a tree.

“So,” Noct says again, “It’s my birthday next week.”

“Getting old already, so sad.”

Noct punches him in the arm.

“I was about to invite you to the arcade with me and some other friends friends but carry on -”

“Dude that sounds so cool, will I get to meet Ignis and Gladio finally?”

Noct talks about them a lot. There’s a lot of complaints - the two of them sound like overbearing big brothers more than anything - but also a lot of affection too. Prompto’s naturally endeared to them because he likes Noct so much and he hopes maybe they’ll all be friends in the end.

“They can be a little, like, weird,” Noct says, “So don’t freak out of they say anything dumb.”

“I say dumb shit all the time,” Prompto points out.

Noct’s phone rings and he’s still laughing when he answers it.

“Hey Iggy - uh, no I didn’t realise the time. I told Gladio where I was so he sorted, y’know, everything out.”

Noct looks at Prompto while he talks, faintly concerned.

“Yeah. Hey, if I bring you an Ebony will you forgive me and give Prom a ride home too -” Prompto starts waving his hands, trying to refuse and Noct flicks his arm to make him stop, “- yeah, no he’s off campus.”

“Sweet, west exit. Fifteen minutes.”

“Dude,” Prompto whines when Noct slides his phone back in his pocket, “I can walk home - you have to go now?”

Noct shrugs, “I forgot about this, uh - family thing I have to do. But you’re barely out of the way.”

“You going back to your parents?”

Noct lives off campus too, but not in college housing, from what he can tell.

“Gotta see my dad, yeah,” Noct says and there’s something oddly evasive in his tone. Guilty.

“You okay?” Prompto prods.

“Yeah,” Noct says and he physically shakes himself a little, “We better grab that coffee or Iggy will have my balls.”

Prompto tries to say no to another vanilla latte but Noct orders it over his protests and it would be a shame to let it go to waste once it’s in his hand.

They don’t make it out of the west exit until twenty minutes after the call and Prompto frets, expresses some concern for making Ignis wait but Noct merely snorts and tells him that his friend is used to Noct being late.

There, leaning up against a sleek black car in an even sleeker black suit is maybe the most intimidating man Prompto’s ever seen.

He’s tall, with his hair perfectly spiked and looking completely unbothered by the heat despite his dark jacket. He’s typing something out on his phone, glasses perched on his nose, driving gloves in place.

“‘Sup Specs,” Noct says as they get close, “This is Prompto. Prom, Ignis.”

“Highness,” Ignis says to Noct before turning to Prompt, “It’s nice to meet you finally.”

Prompto almost drops his coffee because -

“What the fuck!?” he blurts.

Because that one word - and the meltdown Noct has after it - is how Prompto finds out he accidentally befriended the Crown Prince of Lucis.

-

[Noct 21:12] you promise you’re not mad

[Prompto 21:13] dude no

[Prompto 21:13] just shocked

[Prompto 21:14] like for real no offence

[Prompto 21:14] but you don’t act like a prince

[Noct 21:15] i take that as a compliment. you ever seen prince ravus on tv?

[Prompto 21:16] no but the guy needs to hire a new photographer

[Prompto 21:16] he always looks like something smells bad

[Noct 21:17] prom. buddy. thats just his face

[Noct 21:18] no but seriously you should maybe be mad at me

[Noct 21:18] iggy said so

[Noct 21:19] i kept a way big secret for no justifiable secret

[Prompto 21:20] not mad

[Prompto 21:20] everyone has secrets. i assume you’d planned to tell me when you were ready

[Prompto 21:21] and totally justifiable. you’re a PRINCE. thats like a major security thing

[Prompto 21:21] if nothing else

[Noct 21:22] you’re pretty cool you know

[Noct 21:22] thanks for forgetting your pen in math that day

\- - -

Prompto’s still reeling from the revelation the next evening.

Embarrassingly, he spent a few hours looking his friend up online and Prompto had _definitely_ seen his picture before in one of the magazines he bought in Gralea. It makes Prompto feel more than a little dumb. Prompto had definitely seen and heard the name Noctis before. They’d absolutely talked about him, albeit briefly, during the one term of _Lucian History_ his first year of high school.

At first the difference between them seems insurmountable.

He meant what he said, he’s not _mad_.

But Noctis is one of the most important people on the planet and Prompto is just a freak experiment from Niflheim with nothing to call his own. Noct might think he wants to be his friend now -

There’s a loud knock on his door.

There’s really only one person - well two, because Ignis drove - that knows where Prompto lives in a non-professional capacity. And it’s pretty unlikely the university are popping round for a checkup without the 24 hours notice and at almost nine pm on a Saturday evening.

Noct looks sheepish _as fuck_ when Prompto opens the door. He’s half hidden behind his black ball cap again and clutching two pizza boxes in front of him defensively like a shield.

“Shit, dude,” Prompto says, stepping back to let him inside - Noct doesn’t budge, “Are you allowed to be here?”

Noct takes a deep breath and says all in a rush, “There’s a couple of Crownsguard patrolling around the block so that I can be here and if that makes you uncomfortable I’ll call them and get them to take me home.”

“They’re just here to keep you safe yeah? Why would that bother me?”

Noct winces, “It’s just weird, right? Like, I’m twenty and I have a babysitter all the time.”

“I can handle a little weird,” Prompto tells him. Prompto can handle a _lot_ of weird, has been his entire life.

At one point he didn’t know what _names_ were.

He wonders if he should tell Noct about that, about everything, _should_ probably give him all the information considering he’s the _Prince_ but Prompto kind of thinks he might just never tell anyone ever again and _that_ idea sounds infinitely preferable.

Noct smiles, all relief and finally steps inside.

Prompto’s apartment is _tiny_ , he’d never really noticed before.

Prompto kind of digs it normally, he’s managed to create a little bed nook by draping a length of fabric he got on the cheap a bit like a canopy, intertwined with some fairy lights into it. He’s got his own _bathroom_ which is a luxury Prompto’s never had before and while you probably couldn’t call what Prompto has a _kitchen_ he’s got an oven and fridge and a couple counters on which to prepare stuff. It’s a level of privacy and independence that Prompto’s already used to - he doesn’t understand how he never felt stifled before.

Noct takes a quick look around the place - it takes about four seconds - and slides the boxes onto the open counter top.

“Nice place,” Noct comments.

Prompto scoffs, “I - you can’t -”

“What?” Noct laughs.

“You must live in the Citadel or something,” Prompto murmurs.

“The Citadel sucks,” Noct says simply. He opens up one of Prompto’s cupboards, completely at ease, then another, pulling out a couple plates he asks, “Did you eat yet? You sounded distracted when we spoke earlier and I figured maybe you didn’t have time.”

“No, I forgot - I was working on something,” Prompto explains and he quickly crosses over to his coffee table to start packing up the sketch he was working on so they can put his TV back onto it.

“Wait,” Noct calls and he hurries over, still clutching the plates. “Lemme see, you’ve not shown me your stuff yet.”

Prompto squirms, unused to letting people see stuff he’s still working on.

Noct looks down at it for what Prompto considers to be a slightly too long beat. He chuckles, “Okay, _that_ Citadel doesn’t suck.”

“You think so?” To Prompto its still kind of a mess, just basic lines with half the details missing and the shading slightly off. He’s going to add some colours too but he’s not even started _that_ yet.

“Know so,” Noct says, “You got anything to drink? I forgot to grab something.”

Prompto waves at his fridge, “There’s some soda in there.”

Propto sets up his little TV and Noct doesn’t seem perturbed by the small screen or the less than stellar sound as they settle down with pizza and sides that Noct had bought over. There’s these sweet and spicy peppers stuffed with a _different_ cheese that Noct avoids but Prompto gobbles down with relish.

“I wanted to tell you some more stuff,” Noct mumbles, fiddling with the crusts left on his plate.

“Huh?” Prompto says, “You also the treasurer of Tenebrae or something?”

Noct snorts. “No. It’s - so look. I’m _really_ sorry.”

Prompto stares at him blankly.

“We’ve been being followed when we hang out, by Crownsguard and stuff,” Noct admits.

Prompto shrugs, “I figured when you said there were some here - what, what is it?”

Noct’s face had suddenly been torn, like everything in the world was suddenly terrible.

“They did a background check - before I was allowed to start hanging out with you properly,” Noct explains and then rushes on at whatever pops onto Prompto's face, “I didn’t read it - I wouldn’t even let Iggy bring it in my apartment because I don’t care and I _promise_ I only wanna know what you tell me.”

Prompto flounders a little, “What were they looking for?”

It’s everything in him not to tug at the sweatband on his wrist.

He knows his name doesn't return anything when you chuck it into a search engine but he feels like the Crown probably have a few more resources than he does.

“Just if you had a criminal record and stuff - honestly I don’t really know. Because I don’t care.”

“Right,” Prompto says, chewing his mouth, “Well, I don’t.”

Noct laughs, “I figured,” he peers up at Prompto from beneath his shock of dark hair, “Are you mad _now_?”

Prompto thinks he feels _something_ but its not anger. Fear, maybe a _touch_ of frustration. But when you lay it all out it’s not _really_ Noct’s fault, he didn’t decide to be born a prince, just like Prompto didn’t decide to be whatever he is.

Noctis probably would know, Prompto realises, if he ever saw his tattoo. He'd probably know exactly what it meant.

“Dude,” Prompto says and he holds out his fist. Noct bumps it.

\- - -

Prompto’s still pretty terrified of Ignis and it shows.

He can’t help but shake the thought that if anyone in Insomnia _knows_ about him then it’s Ignis. And maybe Gladio, but Prompto’s not actually met him _yet_. Today he will, Ignis is picking them up from campus and driving them to the arcade where Gladio will meet them after work.

Work that involves teaching people to kick ass. Or something.

Prompto gets the impression from Noct that Gladio’s tall and broad - _big, dumb jerk_ Noct had said with that usual undercurrent of affection - and he’s pretty excited about meeting him if he looks how Prompto hopes he does.

Prompto’s not _shallow_ but he likes looking at pretty things. He’s an _artist_.

“Stop being nervous,” Noct tells him, elbowing him gently in the ribs, “Iggy _likes_ you.”

“Sure,” Prompto says.

Noct laughs, “What is it? You got a crush on him or something?”

Prompto splutters, “Dude, _no_.”

Ignis is a beautiful man but he doesn’t really do a whole lot for Prompto. Maybe because, Prompto thinks, he could probably kill him and get away with it. And not by snapping him in half - which is a thing that _does_ get him going - but with some kind of subterfuge Prompto would never see coming.

Did Prompto mention that Ignis is _intimidating_?

“Not your type?” Noct teases.

Prompto had accidentally outed himself the other day by stupidly telling Noct that he’d _totally let him fuck me_ while discussing a casting announcement for their favourite series of movies. Noct hadn’t even blinked just carried on the conversation as normal not needling him for more information until Prompto had started to forget it had ever happened.

At one point Prompto had folded and told Noct the very brief history of his past relationships and certain things had made Noct angrier on Prompto’s behalf than he’d ever allowed himself to be. Sometimes Prompto’s just grateful for the attention and he knows that can often make him do things he regrets after.

He’s trying to forget about the freshman _mixer_ he’d gone to during the first week of classes after his scholarship adviser had pushed him to _really try_ and make friends - only to turn up at the address to find a raging party that had almost sent him scurrying home. Before he could turn-tail a warm tan arm had settled over his shoulders, another hand coming up to hand him a beer and Prompto had been lost in the haze of mischievous smiles and spiced cologne. He’d been nice enough and maybe Prompto shouldn’t have had that fourth beer and gone back to his dorm room but -

He had.

After it was over, when Prompto was feeling content and satisfyingly sore he’d wondered if he should maybe suggest they meet up again. But he’d gotten up to go to the bathroom and his new _friend_ had asked him to make sure he lifted the handle up on the way out. To make sure the door locked properly.

No more parties for Prompto.

“You want me to have a crush on your friends?” Prompto asks with just a hint of snark.

“I want you to be _friends_ with my friends,” Noct stresses. He throws an arm casually over Prompto’s shoulder and the blond almost trills under the casual touch.

Noct’s not overt with his affection, not hugely tactile, but Prompto craves these brotherly arms and the gentle punches in way that surprises him.

Ignis is waiting for them by the car again, dressed down a touch in black jeans and a coeurl print shirt, and looks up from his phone at their approach, a little smile splitting his face.

“Good afternoon boys,” he greets them, “How were your classes?”

Noct grunts some sort of affirmation but Prompto says, “Not so bad. How was your day, Ignis?”

Ignis looks genuinely surprised by the question, “Busy but manageable. Thank you for asking, Prompto, that’s very kind of you.”

The word is pointed and Noct rolls his eyes as he opens the back door.

“Hey Iggy, thanks for doing my job for me,” Noct says.

Ignis laughs softly as he gets into the drivers seat, “You’re most welcome.”

Prompto dithers by the open door, not wanting to treat Ignis like a chauffeur but Noct is suddenly tugging on his wristband to encourage him into the car, sliding across the back seat to make room. It’s a suppression of all his basic instincts not to yank his arm back at the unfamiliar sensation.

Prompto’s walked past this arcade before so its no surprise when it only takes them a handful of minutes to pull up outside. Prompto half expects the arcade to be empty, that the crown would have cleared it out for Noct’s use but there’s the usual post school crowd of teens and young adults.

“Throw your bag in the trunk,” Noct says as they climb out of the car. He’s staying over at Noct’s apartment for the first time and his backpack is full to bursting with a change of clothes and basic toiletries on top of his normal stuff for school.

They’re about to step through the door when a teasing voice says, “Happy birthday, little prince.”

Noct whirls and throws a fake punch at the guy reclining against the wall. He’s dressed all in black like so many Lucians but there’s a telltale braid in his hair and discreet tattoos on his hands and face that _screams_ Galahd. Prompto assumes this is one of the guards that trails Noct during his every waking moment.

“This your new friend?” the guard asks, inclining his head at the blond.

“Uh huh, this is Prompto,” Noct says.

“Nyx,” he introduces himself.

“Hey,” Noct says, suddenly sicking a mean stink eye on Nyx, “It’s _my_ birthday so no kissing.”

Nyx rolls his eyes and the exchange throws Prompto through a loop until Ignis steps up to their side and Nyx throws _him_ a not at all subtle wink.

“Behave,” Ignis says sternly.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

That explains why Noct hadn’t even stumbled at the news of his sexuality.

Huh. Cool.

“You guys are no fun,” Nyx complains laughing, “Get your asses inside.”

“Tell Gladio we’ll be over by the classic _Justice Monsters_ ,” Noct says impatiently grabbing Prompto’s arm this time - thank Gods - and dragging him into the arcade.

Ignis appears a few minutes later when Noct’s staked out a machine and Prompto wonders if he and Nyx had been flaunting the no kissing rule but his thought process is derailed by Ignis pressing a handful of tokens into his palm.

Prompto is _bad_ at _Justice Monsters_.

He doesn’t think he’d be any good even _if_ he’d had a childhood playing the franchise like Noct. Ignis holds his own well, but Noct trounces the both of them thoroughly.

“You might be able to win a round once Gladio gets here,” Noct says around a laugh, “Which should be like now.”

“He seems to be running a little late,” Ignis murmurs flicking his wrist to look at the time.

“Hey, come watch me and Iggy play _Dead for Days_ and then you can have a turn, it’s so fun,” Noct says dragging him off again.

 _Dead 4 Dayz_ \- as it turns out to be called - is one of those standing shooters with fake plastic guns that you use to mow down zombies on the screen. Something twists in Prompto’s stomach when he sees them and he swallows as he watches the two of them play, trying not to let _whatever_ this is overtake him.

Ignis beats Noct by no small margin and the prince throws his adviser an exaggerated pout.

“When did you stop letting me win everything?” Noct complains.

Ignis laughs and steps out of the booth, offering the toy gun to Prompto.

“So you just point -” Noct raises his gun, showing how the reticule appears on the screen, “- and shoot at the zombies. And try not to shoot people that are obviously still alive.”

Prompto laughs, “Got it.”

It’s…weird.

Prompto doesn’t _really_ understand how he's feeling.

The first few times he pulls the little plastic trigger he feels like a kid again. Cold and frightened. Hungry and alone. He fires on instinct, muscle memory working for him and feels himself sinking somewhere he’s not been in a long time.

It's frightening and _lonely -_

Noct’s laugh, full and bright cuts through the fog in his head and he comes back to himself in the noisy, almost too hot arcade.

“Nooo,” Noct all but cries when their scores flash up on the screen and he’s lost, again, “What are you some sort of trained killer?”

Prompto’s laugh has just a touch of hysteria to it but Noct’s too busy feeding more tokens into the machine to notice.

Ignis’ hand, still in gloves touches his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says quickly. Too fast though because one of Ignis’ eyebrows slips up behind his glasses, “It’s - maybe I’m a little hot.”

Some fresh air might actually sort him right out but Noct’s there, pressing the little gun into his hands again and pushing Ignis into the booth in his place.

“Kick Iggy’s ass for me, _please_ ,” Noct begs.

It’s not so bad this time, with Noct’s running commentary to focus on and warmed by his victory cries as Prompto’s score creeps ever higher.

By the end of it he’s actually having _fun_ , laughing along with Noct and surprised when he’s actually excited and pleased to _win_.

-

He’s tired and sweaty, exhausted both from the physical exertion and dealing with an odd bombardment of memories that surge up from seemingly nowhere when he’s not even playing the games that he was _prepared_ to trigger him after that first one.

Noct’s texting away beside him in the back of the car.

“Is Gladio’s sister okay?” Prompto asks quietly.

“Looks like it,” Noct says, “Poor Iris, though. Hospitals suck.”

Prompto feels _that_ mood. He spent enough time around doctors for a lifetime, both in the facility and then out of it when he’d proved to be a bit of a sickly child. Goes some way to explain why none of the foster homes stuck. Plus all that _other_ stuff.

Even so he must have spent less time in them that Noct, who still even now has to undergo regular treatment for the back injury he sustained as a child.

“How old is she?” Prompto asks. Noctis had said _baby sister_ when he’d told Prompto that Gladio wasn’t going to be able to make it after all.

Noct scrunches his face, “Thirteen?”

“She’s fifteen in December,” Ignis says from the front seat. Prompto can hear the eye roll in his tone.

It's amazing what an evening can do; Prompto really _gets_ Ignis now. He’s still intimidating as fuck and Prompto doesn’t know he’ll ever get over that - or the potential that Ignis _knows_ \- but he’s got a sense of humour drier that Leide and he’s so _quick_.

Somehow he manages to both indulge Noct’s whims and take absolutely none of his shit all at once.

“Right,” Noct says, “I dunno she’ll kind of always a be a little kid to me.”

“She’ll be heartbroken,” Ignis teases.

“Aw,” Prompto coos, “But Noct only has eyes for one girl…”

Prompto reaches out to poke Noct in the ribs and his friend bats at his hands and they quickly dissolve into as much of a scuffle as their seat belts allow.

Nyx laughs from the passenger seat but _doesn't_ leap to the princes defence.

Getting Noct to talk about Luna is like drawing blood from a stone - until he starts and then the fondness gushes out of him in that stilted manner of Noct’s.

Now that Prompto’s knowingly friends with the prince he pays a little more attention to news. So he knows there’s probably an arranged marriage in the cards and he’s glad Noct at least _likes_ his potential bride.

Ignis pulls the car into an underground parking garage at the base of a giant apartment building. Prompto’s been over before but it’s even more impressive at night, all lit up amongst the Insomnia skyline.

“I’ll come up and cook you both breakfast in the morning,” Ignis says when the elevator stops a few floors below Noct’s.

Noct groans.

“Brunch,” Ignis concedes and he steps out onto his floor with Nyx behind him.

“Thanks Iggy,” Prompto says, “For driving and everything.”

Ignis smiles and warns, “Don’t stay up _too_ late.”

The elevator slides up the remaining floors and Prompto stifles a yawn behind his hand.

“You work tomorrow?” Noct asks.

“Not ‘til six,” Prompto tells him.

“So we’re totally staying up too late,” Noct decides.

“Duh.”

Noct rushes off for the bathroom when they get inside and then appears several minutes later in black lounge pants and a scruffy t-shirt that feels really out of place when you stop to think about him being a prince.

Said prince promptly dives onto his extravagant couch and becomes absorbed in his phone..

There’s a group of pictures on the wall beside Noct’s dining table that Prompto didn’t manage to get a good look at last time he was here.

One’s a shot of toddler Noct with slightly older Ignis - in an adorable waistcoat and less stylish glasses - that's so stupidly cute Prompto almost makes a noise. There’s one with Noct and his dad and then beside it one that looks like it must have been taken in the last year or so; Noct and Ignis look much the same as they do now and between them, mmuscular arm around each of them is a really tall guy with longish brown hair and a jawline Ignis could probably sharpen his kitchen knives on.

“Is that Gladio?” Prompto asks Noct, pointing at the unfamiliar face.

“Mhm,” Noct murmurs, barely looking up from his phone.

Prompto chews on his bottom lip, taking in the breadth of his shoulders and the width of his arms. _This_ is a man that looks like he could snap Prompto in half. Prompto might even _pay_ him for the privilege.

“Wow,” Prompto says.

That seems to get Noct’s attention and he looks up.

“Gross, dude. Don't even.”

-

Prompto probably spent just a little too long in Noct’s shower this morning so he can’t really blame his friend for being a little impatient with him.

He’s back in his jeans and tugging on his t-shirt then there’s a knock on a door to the spare bedroom.

“Hey, Prom, you naked?”

Prompto laughs.

“No, but -”

The words _don’t come in_ never make it out of his mouth because Noct’s swinging the door open.

Whatever words Noct was going to say also die because Prompto’s not wearing his wristband and Noct’s eyes just _zero_ right in on his tattoo.

Of course.

Prompto scrambles for it, turns his back and pulls it on but the damage is already done. Noct’s seen it.

Forget Ignis knowing. _Noct_ knows.

Prompto probably would have probably given everything he has to stop that from happening.

“You said you didn’t have any tattoos,” Noct says and there’s just a hint of accusation in his tone.

Prompto _had_ said that. His constant white lie.

“I said I’d never gotten one,” Prompto tries to defend, “And _I_ never really _got_ this.”

Prompto doesn’t want to tell Noct the technicalities of how he was given his tattoo because he doesn’t want to _think_ about it himself. He can’t forget about it but he can stop Noct from having to live with the knowledge too.

But then maybe, just _maybe_ Noct doesn’t know what this really is, what this really means. Maybe his only transgression will be this omission of fact. Maybe that will be _enough_ to end this.

“Oh.”

He’s not looking at Noct so he has no way of working out how he might be feeling and Prompto waits, wondering when Noct’s gonna throw him out or if he’ll call Ignis up from his apartment to do it on his behalf.

“Oh _fuck_ \- shit, Prom. No. I didn’t know - come here.”

Noct’s hands touch his shoulders and he’s turned on the spot. He goes without fighting, not realising that he’s crying until Noct’s wrapping his arms over Prompto’s shoulders and pulling him into a _hug_.

Prompto shudders and tentatively brings his arms up to embrace him back.

“Those _bastards_ ,” Noct whispers fiercely.

“You know what it is,” Prompto says, not asking but his voice weak and watery.

“Yeah. I’m _so_ sorry that happened to you.”

Prompto dares to clutch Noct a little tighter and whispers, “You don’t think I’m, like, a monster?”

“ _What_? No -” Noct pushes him back a little but only so Prompto has to look into his face as he says, “- you’re just Prompto. That’s all I care about.”

Prompto scrubs over his face and Noct doesn’t mention the fact that he just got blubbered all over.

There’s a touch of awkwardness as they linger near each other, not sure where to go from here but its dissipated by a knock on the front door.

“That’s Iggy,” Noct tells him, rushing to assure him, “But I can send him away if you don’t want to see him or you wanna talk about it - or…”

Prompto shakes his head, “I’m good.”

Noct looks immensely unsure and he reaches for Prompto’s arm right above where he’s covered.

“They’re not ever having you back,” the prince says firmly a touch of _something_ in his voice Prompto’s never heard before.

“I don’t wanna go back. Not ever. I really meant it when I told you I was never happy there - it’s not all just to do with _this_ ,” Prompto says.

“Things weren’t better, once you got out?”

Prompto raises one shoulder in the tiniest of shrugs, “They were better. But they were rarely ever _good_.”

The knock sounds again and Noct flinches before throwing himself at Prompto, wrapping him in another hug that’s over so fast Prompto barely has time to return it before Noct’s pulling back, patting his shoulders a little clumsily.

“I’ll get him to make pancakes,” Noctis says starting to walk away. He spins, looking at Prompto speculatively as he backs out of the room, “You have _had_ pancakes before, right?”

Prompto flips him off, laughing softly.

He needs to wash his face before he lets Iggy see him but actually he feels _okay_.

\- - -

Noct never sits him down and makes Prompto tell him _everything_ that happened to him but he asks gentle questions every so often, offering up his own stories from a childhood that hadn’t been completely happy either.

Prompto never had parents to grieve but his heart breaks for his friend when he talks about losing his mother and a time in his early teens when he’d felt apart from his father.

Noct turns a little frantic when Prompto had talked about his training and how the game at the arcade had effected me.

“Oh, shit,” Noct had said, “Iggy _said_ something had happened but he didn’t - Prompto, I’m so sorry, we never have to play those again.”

But Prompto _thinks_ he wants to. It’s not the same and he’ll definitely not ever hold a _real_ gun again if he can help it but those two things are easy to separate in his mind when the game is so obviously _not real_.

\- - -

[Noct 17:44] booooooo

[Noct 17:44] gladios gonna be so mad

[Prompto 17:45] dude. i need the money and for my boss not to hate me

[Prompto 17:46] please make the big guy not hate me

[Noct 17:47] he doesnt hate you

[Noct 17:47] he just wants to meet you

[Prompto 17:48] one day our stars will align

[Prompto 17:48] it is fated

[Noct 17:48] nerd

\- - -

“Ah, Prompto, I was hoping you would be here.”

Prompto looks up - surprised - and throws Iggy a smile. He’d really only come round to Noct’s to pick up his sketchbook that Noct keeps forgetting to grab in the morning and bring back to him. _That’s_ not surprising, really, when its difficult to get almost anything out of Noct before midday.

He’s _staying_ at Noct’s for the evening because Ignis is cooking enough for him to eat too. Apparently.

Noct outright offered him some money the other day when Prompto had thoughtlessly complained about his paycheck not coming in until a few days _after_ he needed to grab some extra art supplies. The prince had looked _hurt_ when Prompto had vehemently refused so Prompto’s loosened up on his not letting Noct pay for _anything_ policy and lets him buy his coffee on campus without complaint and eats at his apartment a couple times a week.

Noct seems happier for it and Prompto’s working on not feeling guilty because it's not like he's asking for stuff.

“Uh. _Hello_ , Iggy, great to see you,” Noct says pointedly without looking up from his laptop. He’s got a mean as fuck research paper due for tomorrow it's been giving him grief since the moment he got assigned it.

Ignis gently swats at Noct’s head in a way that mostly just muses up his hair.

“I wanted to thank you,” Ignis carries on, “For your recommendation the other day. I believe Gladio’s already made an appointment with Elias.”

“He has!” Prompto concurs brightly, “He’s coming in Sunday so we’ll finally get to meet.”

Prompto doesn’t let his eyes stray to the picture on the wall. He’s got work to do himself and it won’t do to get distracted.

\- - -

Prompto bustles around _Insomnia Ink_ the whole morning before Gladio’s due to arrive, bundle of anxious energy. He sweeps the studio and mops the back room before Eli can even ask him and started to wipe down all the empty stations.

“How are _you_ nervous?” Eli says taking all the cleaning products forcibly from his hands and sitting him down behind the front desk in the twenty minutes before Gladio’s due to arrive, “Isn’t he your friend?”

“Friend of a friend,” Prompto says, “We’ve never managed to actually meet yet.”

Prompto doesn’t think that his friendship with Noct will be affected if he and Gladio _don’t_ get along for whatever reason but he remembers Noct saying _I want you to be friends with my friends_ and doesn’t want to let him down.

Also, there’s that really minor fact that Gladio’s _gorgeous_ and Prompto’s face flushes up easy and his mouth stops working in the presence of really fine things.

Eli’s face is a little strained, Prompto notices and something about his tone filters into Prompto’s brain.

“Wait, are _you_ nervous?”

Eli shrugs but he neither confirms nor denies it.

“Do I need to remind you how amazing you are?” Prompto prods, nudging Eli with his knee. Eli’s a pretty relaxed as bosses go - he hates Prompto even calling him his boss - and he really does just want to _teach_ Prompto, expecting just the very minimum of actual work in return.

“I know I’m amazing,” Eli says, rolling his eyes, “This is just - you know…”

“The most important tattoo of your career?”

Eli scuffs him gently on the side of the head, “Real helpful, Kid. For that you’re cleaning the bathroom.”

Prompto laughs, settling back into the chair a more comfortably.

Prompto keeps up a stream of chatter to keep Eli distracted while they wait and it works, he’s smiling, relaxed against the wall rather than rigidly holding himself up by the time that little bell tinkles above the door.

Prompto stays where he is, excited to finally meet him but not sure if Eli wants to go first or if he wants Prompto to practice signing people in -

Eli glances down at him and nods in Gladio’s direction and he spins the chair around quickly, hopping to his feet.

And.

Fucking shit.

It’s -

Gladio’s ripped out of every idle fantasy Prompto’s ever had, broader and taller and handsomer than the picture had given him credit for in almost every way. His hair is longer, chocolate brown and his eyes warm like golden honey.

Prompto’s mouth is dry and he forces a smile through his nervousness.

“Hi!,” he says, and even though he already knows, “Gladio?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys. Noct ate so much pizza over like a two week period. It’s insane. A friendship forged over melted cheese lasts forever, no?  
> I know some of you might be disappointed we didn’t get into the Gladio stuff yet but I think it’s really important for Prompto’s development to explore his friendship with Noct.


	3. Insomnia Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto knows what he's doing. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay you guys - I got pretty sick out of literally no where. Nothing to do with what’s currently going on in the world, don’t worry, but it was really rough for a few days. Using my computer was almost impossible.  
> Glad to be back here in my happy place now <3

Prompto sighs. Noctis casts him a look.

Prompto should probably get up and do some work or actually offer Noct a useful opinion on the series of suits he’s trying on.

“What about this one?” Noct asks.

Prompto forces himself to focus - and frowns.

“Why is it so _shiny_?”

Noct laughs, “I know right.”

“Make Iggy send it back,” Prompto demands.

“He wouldn’t let me keep this one even if I wanted to.”

“So he _does_ dress you,” Prompto teases.

“Only for functions,” Noct admits and Prompto cackles.

When Prompto’s recovered Noct sheds the horrible shiny jacket and sits next to him on the bed.

“What’s up with you?” Noct asks.

“Huh? I’m fine,” Prompto says.

“Yeah but -” Noct eyes him sceptically, “You’re all distracted. I just - I hope Gladio didn’t upset you or anything.”

“No,” Prompto says quickly, “He didn’t - didn’t upset me at all.”

Noct stares at him for a moment and his face does a lot of things very quickly. Noct collapses back on the bed and groans.

“Noct?”

“Gladio’s not - he’s a great guy but he’s not -” Noct huffs, “He wouldn’t be a good guy _for you_.”

“What no - I didn’t even… he’s probably not even gay. I don’t -”

Noct sits up again and shoves him in the arm, “You’re a terrible liar.”

Prompto deflates, “Dude, he’s crazy hot. You have _no_ idea.”

Noct snorts, “Plenty of people have told me. And he’s totally bi. It’s not that.”

“It’s because - I know he’s a lord or whatever. I don’t think he’d go out with a common scrub like me -”

“ _That’s_ not it,” Noct interrupts him, “Gladio doesn’t really go out with anyone.”

Prompto tilts his head to the side, confused.

Noct scrunches his face up, “He’s never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend he just kind of, I dunno, sleeps with people I guess.”

“Oh,” Prompto says. That’s - not at all surprising actually. Not when you look like Gladio does.

“He’s not like - I dunno how to explain it.”

“He just has one night stands,” Prompto suggests.

“It’s not even that,” Noct says, “Iggy would probably be able to explain it better - casual he always says. He likes to keep it _casual_.”

Prompto looks towards the door to Noct’s bedroom where Ignis is cooking away in the kitchen.

“Gladio’s got a lot of responsibilities, like me, with the - you know. Inheritance thing.”

Prompto frowns and then, “You mean because he’s the Shield? Can he not date?”

Because Noct isn’t allowed to date. At all. But Noct’s also never really _wanted_ to date much, as he tells it, so it’s never bothered him.

“He _can_ ,” Noct argues, “He just doesn’t seem to want to. He’ll probably have a marriage arranged for him too.”

“Oh,” Prompto says again.

“So he doesn't see the point - and if you and Gladio did anything - it wouldn’t be anything _real_. And I wouldn’t want that for you,” Noct says gently.

Prompto nods. But he doesn’t _know_.

“Wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” Noctis adds.

Prompto nods again.

He thinks back to how he felt after that one night stand he had at the start of the school year and the few times in Niflheim when he hadn’t gotten what he _really_ wanted from a relationship and thinks that maybe Noct is right.

He resolves to put Gladio out of his mind.

He probably wouldn’t have stood a chance anyway.

\- - -

The cat is lucky Prompto’s phone changes songs when it does because that brief moment of silence is the only reason Prompto hears his pitiful meow.

“Hey, cutie,” Prompto says, crouching down, panting slightly from his run.

The cat meows again and belly crawls forward a little. Prompto notices a small spot of blood on it’s paw, rust coloured against the orange fur.

“You’re hurt,” Prompto points out, cooing at it. He hold out his hand and the cat flinches back then tentatively inches forwards to sniff his fingers.

Over the course of a few minutes Prompto progresses from little sniffs to the cat letting Prompto scratch behind it’s ears. It licks the pad of his thumb and then struggles to it’s feet, hobbling and limping towards him.

“I got you,” Prompto mumbles to the cat. He’s small but not quite a kitten and Prompto scoops it up carefully, cradling it gently against his chest and trying not to jostle it’s bleeding paw.

It starts up a low rhythmic purr against him as Prompto stands. He’s pretty sure he knows where there’s an animal shelter, but he pulls out his phone as he starts walking.

-

[Noct 09:07] dude i’m never here first

[Noct 09:08] did you get lost?

[Noct 09:10] prom?

“I got it,” the lady says, passing a device over the cat’s neck, “He’s micro-chipped.”

“Great,” Prompto tells her, “So they’ll be okay?”

“I’ll give the number a call and see if someone can come get little – oh how cute - little Butterscotch,” she says.

Prompto smiles at her but tunes out her phone call, rubbing the cats belly as it kicks at his hand with its back feet. They’d cleaned up his paw and given him a drink and something to eat. He’s got a killer limp but they think Butterscotch with make a full recovery.

[Noct 09:15] are you okay?

[Noct 09:16] lemme know if you’re sick. iggy can bring you some soup

“Hi,” the shelter worker says, “They’re owner is coming to get them. They’ll be here soon.”

Prompto’s phone vibrates in his pocket _again_.

“I better get going,” Prompto says, feeling a little sad, “I’ve got college.”

“Leave your number,” she tells him, “In case they want to give you a reward or something.”

“Oh no,” Prompto says quickly, “I don’t want anything.”

“At least let them offer,” she suggests with a smile.

Dutifully Prompto gives her his name and phone number. As he’s about to leave his phone goes off in his pocket – _again_ \- and he turns back.

“Can I take a picture with him? So my friend knows why I’m super late?”

She laughs and holds Butterscotch up so Prompto can take a selfie.

[Prompto 09:21] [Image 07652.jpg]

[Prompto 09:21] i was on a rescue mission

[Prompto 09:21] can be on campus in half an hour

[Noct 09:22] ….

[Noct 09:22] pls tell me thats your cat now

[Prompto 09:23] currently being reunited with its parents

[Noct 09:24] this is the only acceptable reason to stand me up

[Noct 09:24] for the record

\- - -

[Linc Sakara 17:04] Swapped your shift from Saturday to Sunday next week. Same times.

[Prompto 17:08] I work my apprenticeship on Sundays.

[Linc Sakara 17:10] Well sort it out.

[Linc Sakara 17:10] You work Sunday or you don’t work at all. Those are your options.

[Prompto 17:12] I’ll get it sorted.

[Link Sakara 17:15] Least I gave you notice.

-

Eli, he _calls._

“ _What’s up kid?_ ”

“My boss at the sushi place needs me to work next Sunday,” Prompto tells him.

“ _Okay_.”

“When - how do you want me to make up the hours? I can only do a few hours in the morning,” Prompto stammers.

“ _I don’t_ ,” Eli says, “ _I know you’re busy right now. Just - try not to stress, okay_.”

“You’re a terrible boss,” Prompto tells him.

Eli laughs into the phone, “ _You better turn up with fucking coffee this week you little shit_.”

\- - -

Prompto’s still a little flustered from being caught drawing a _gladiolus flower_ of all things but he dutifully covers Gladio’s freshly inked skin in tattoo cream and starts wrapping it.

Prompto had heard Gladio’s full name by accident a few days ago - Ignis had been scolding him over the phone. And he’d looked up the word, not sure exactly sure what it was and discovered one of the prettiest flowers he’d ever seen in his life.

Not that Niflheim _has_ a lot of flowers, obviously.

Gladio had liked it though. He _thinks_. He hadn’t thought Prompto was weird or anything but Prompto can’t help but flush and bumble his way through every conversation, each compliment.

It’s really hard to put Gladio out of his mind, as it turns out, because he’s so big and kind and _handsome_.

He’s finding it particularly difficult to stop looking at Gladio’s hands - big and rough - and imagining them wrapped around his waist.

Pulling his hair.

Prompto _thinks_ Gladio might be flirting with him sometimes but he’s been wrong about that before.

Really wrong.

“You should let this breath as much as you can,” Prompto tells him, carefully attaching some tape, “And try not to pick when it scabs over, it’s just worse in the long run.”

Gladio’s going to be sick of this by the time its all done, Prompto can’t imagine him wanting to come back in for touch ups.

Gladio flexes his arm and Prompto’s first distracted by the sight of the muscles moving and then concern -

“I hope this doesn’t affect your work too much,” Prompto tells him sincerely.

The last thing he wants is Noct _or_ Gladio getting hurt while he’s not at the top of his game.

“I sorted that out for a bit,” Gladio assures him, “Got people covering me when I need to.”

Prompto nods, “Oh good. Just - good job he’ll be safe, y’know.”

Gladio looks confused, maybe even a little perturbed by the comment and Prompto wonders if he doesn’t like talking about his work when he’s not doing it.

He feels so _stupid_.

When Gladio goes off to pay for his session Prompto stays behind to tidy a few things and get his embarrassment under control before following after.

“Sure,” Gladio is saying, “I’ll see you both next week, then.”

Prompto shrugs when Gladio turns his gaze towards him, “Maybe. I traded shifts at work so I might be gone before you get here.”

Gladio’s face falls and Prompto feels a weird swoop in his stomach.

“Huh,” the big guy says, “Well, week after then.”

Prompto smiles at him to cover up whatever his head is doing to his body, “You bet!”

\- - -

“What’s that?” Noct asks, circumventing a usual greeting.

“Huh?” Prompto says and then he’s adjusting the canvas board under his to take the soda Noct had bought him and he realises, “Oh - I finished my painting assignment so I’m gonna drop it off between classes.”

“I thought your deadline was tomorrow?”

Prompto blinks, surprised Noct had remembered the little detail.

“If I had it at home tonight I’d continue to work on it and probably ruin it,” Prompto explains.

“Can I see?” Noct asks. Noct always wants to see, it’s nice to have someone so interested.

Prompto nods, popping the board onto the bench. Prompto has to wrap his stuff in plastic bags for safety because they don’t fit in his battered portfolio case so he carefully peels back some of the tape and pushes plastic away from the painting.

Prompto actually likes it, thinks his composition is good, enjoys the colours and everything but he'd thought the assignment was a little bland. It’s a still life, just a simple collection of things that are important to him.

He’d floundered for a minute, when the assignment was set, only being able to think of his camera but eventually adding his running shoes - he’d drawn them less battered than they are - and a well used sketchbook to the pile. Last minute he’d chucked an empty coffee cup from the coffee cart that Noct always buys him and the very first copy of _Inked_ he’d ever bought.

“Wow,” Noct says.

“It’s alright,” Prompto concedes. His camera looks particularly good, but he’s spent years with art being only for himself and letting other people’s eyes look at it is still an _adjustment_.

Noct punches his arm, “Dude, it’s great - is that your phone?”

Prompto’s already rooting in the bottom of his bag for it where it’s ringing quietly and buzzing up a storm - Noct takes his drink back again so he’s got an extra hand.

“It’s my boss,” Prompto mumbles.

“I’ll watch your stuff,” Noct offers.

Prompto steps away to the side, “Hello?”

“ _Argentum. Good. I need you to work Saturday too_ ,” Linc says.

“But I - we already swapped everything around,” Prompto says uncertainly.

Working two full days this weekend will be a _nightmare_. The money will be great sure - but he has school work to do. A _tonne_ of school work to do. Plus he’d like to spend some time with Noct and Iggy, maybe Gladio if he’s going to be at Noct’s at all this weekend.

Prompto glances toward Noct but can’t see him, because a small group - mostly girls - have approached him in Prompto’s absence. Prompto frowns. Noct _hates_ talking to strangers, Prompto’s lucky he took Noct by surprise that time.

“ _Erin’s sick - stomach bug, so she’s out for a full week. You have to come cover her saturday._ ”

Prompto sighs. It’s inconvenient, but he needs this job, he can’t afford to piss him off or get shifts taken away from himself.

“What time does she start?”

“ _Five, but I need you in at three to help clean up after the lunch rush_ ,” Linc tells him.

Prompto suppresses the next sigh, “Til eleven?”

“ _Need you to close up - I’ll give you dinner and you can take anything short dated home with you_.”

Which means Prompto will be lucky to get out before midnight _and_ he’s doing a few hours at _Insomnia Ink_ Sunday morning before his shift that day.

“Cool,” Prompto says and before he can say goodbye he hears Noct behind him -

“Shit - fuck. Oh no, seriously. No, back off, please - look what just happened. _Shit_.”

“Highness,” another voice says and someone in full black is suddenly there dispersing the crowd.

“I have to go,” Prompto mumbles into the phone, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

He tries to rush back over to Noct but there’s suddenly an arm blocking his way, another person all in black materialising from the crowd.

“Not a step closer,” the person growls. They’ve got slicked back brown hair and the coldest blue eyes he’s ever seen. They make him feel - not good.

“I’m his friend,” Prompto says, “I -”

“Not a step _closer_ ,” they repeat.

“ _Lazarus_ ,” Noct suddenly says, “That’s - he’s…just let Prompto through.”

Prompto ducks under the outstretched arm before it can be retracted.

“Noct are you okay, what -”

Noct’s facing away from him, but that’s just because he’s busy mopping up what looks like an entire sticky brown soda from Prompto’s painting.

“I’m sorry!” Noct says desperately, “I don’t know what happened - they were just all there and I tried to back away and then I bumped into -”

He looks a little frantically at the two people - Crownsguard Prompto thinks - his gaze slightly accusatory.

“I told you,” hisses the woman near the prince, throwing daggers at her companion.

The other one scoffs and Prompto just about hears him mutter, “ _Supposed_ to keep our distance,” but he shuts up when he gets another glare.

Prompto can’t really pay attention to any of this though, watching Noct’s hands move like there’s a weird filter over his eyes and white noise filling his ears

“It’s okay,” Prompto says slowly, putting his hand on Noct’s arm to stop what he’s doing - likely a complete waste of time.

Plus, it _looks_ like Noct's using his own hoody and the mix of soda and the paint lifted off the board might just have ruined it beyond repair.

“No it’s not - can we fix it?” Noct asks, all frantic again.

“I - I don’t think so.”

Noct touches his shoulder but Prompto’s not really paying attention.

He’s got two classes and then he’ll have to buy a new board and then he can _maybe_ get something else together in time for tomorrow -

“Prom, hey - Prompto.”

Noct touches his face, taps him lightly and Prompto drags his eyes away from his ruined painting to look at his friend.

“I’m sorry,” Noct says again, “What can I do? Do you have something else? We take it to your teacher, we can - _I_ can get you an extension.”

The suggestion fully snaps Prompto out of his daze and he focuses a little harder on Noct’s face and notices - finally - that his eyes looks terrified, maybe even a little _damp_.

“Hey,” Prompto says and he moves without thinking, stepping forward to hug Noct. Half second later Noct hugs him back, “It’s okay.”

Noct snorts, “Why aren’t you angry?”

Prompto pulls away to shrug, “Accidents happen.” He offers Noct the best approximation of a smile he can currently muster.

“What do we do?”

Prompto looks at the ruined piece again, “I have to do another one?”

“Do you have time?” Noct asks.

“I don’t have a choice,” Prompto says.

“I’ll help,” Noct says quickly.

Prompto laughs, surprising himself, then teases, “That’s _cheating_.”

He sobers and gathers up his board, wrapping it back up. When he has time, he’ll try cleaning it properly, giving it a white base and see if he can get another use out of it.

Prompto's nothing if not thrifty.

“All nighter, huh?” Noct suggests.

Prompto nods, “Shame I can’t skip classes.” Shame attendance counts against his grade.

“I’ll get us a ride back to yours after,” Noct promises, “And I’ll stay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Prompto says.

“Yes I do,” Noct say firmly.

Prompto gets a good look at him again and something clicks in to place. Noct feels _guilty_ and not letting him do anything to try and fix would be really unfair. Prompto doesn’t need it, but Noct does.

“Hey,” he says, “You think that ride can swing us by the art store? I need a new one of these.”

“Sure,” Noct says pulling out his phone and immediately firing off a text, “And I’ll buy the stuff you need.”

Prompto rolls his eyes. He’ll see about that.

-

Prompto doesn’t fair particularly well for the rest of the day.

It’s not one of his best days in Insomnia. He carries around a little nugget of panic all day, unable to really concentrate and then maybe bombing a pop quiz in _Solheim Arts_. It’s probably not worth much of his grade, but it all counts.

Prompto gets to the car before Noct, kind of aware that he only feels so tired and run down because he knows he’s still got so much work ahead of him.

Normally Prompto wouldn’t approach the car unless Noct was by his side but to his surprise it’s Ignis that slides out of the drivers seat.

“How are you?” Ignis says without preamble.

“Fine,” Prompto says quickly on reflex, “Noct didn’t say you’d be coming for us.”

“He told me what he did -”

“He didn’t _do_ anything,” Prompto interrupts and then he bites his lip, feeling bad for doing so. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking down and feeling his cheeks warm.

“Noct told me what _happened_ ,” Ignis corrects, “And I wanted to check you were okay myself.”

Prompto hadn’t been expecting that.

It’s _nice_ to know that Ignis cares about him.

“I’m okay,” he tells him, “Just a little worried. Not got a lot of time.”

Prompto means more than just tonight, but isn’t sure if he needs to tell Ignis that.

“If there’s anything we can do to help,” Ignis offers.

Prompto smiles and then -

“Oh shoot, we were supposed to go to the movies tonight.”

“It’ll hold,” Ignis promises, “Which art store do you prefer?”

“Oh - the big one, across from the mall?”

“I know it,” Ignis says, “Gladio’s sister likes it there.”

“Hey,” Noct says, coming up to the car then. He bumps his shoulder into Prompto’s and asks, “Day okay?”

“Shitty pop quiz,” Prompto tells him simply.

Ignis pats his shoulder, looking sympathetic, “Lets get going.”

-

“This place is a maze,” Noct mumbles, “Why all the different paint?”

“Does different stuff,” Prompto says, “I _can_ explain it in detail but I don’t really think you want me to.”

Noct and Ignis both laugh.

“You got me,” Noct admits.

And then Prompto loses him.

He’s sorting through black paint - he needs more of the stuff that dries _matte_ \- which he though Noct would appreciate on an aesthetic level at least, but when he pops up from his crouch Noct is _gone._

“Iggy?” he says, “Do we need to be worried?”

Ignis laughs, “He won’t have gone far but if we hear a loud crash we should probably go rescue him.”

Prompto does some mental math, seeing what he can afford to stock up on while he’s got the privilege of a car to take it all back to his apartment.

“You alright?” Ignis murmurs.

“Budgeting in my head,” he says back.

“I’m sure if - if what happened has set you back then with Noct or myself can -”

“No,” Prompto says firmly, “I’m not taking money from Noct. Not ever.”

Ignis appraises him for a long moment, eyes both warm and considering.

“You’re a good man, Prompto,” Ignis says softly.

Prompto blushes, “Shut up,” he snaps, over flowing with affection.

He picks out a few more tubes of paint and then decides to fork out some money for paintbrush cleaner - unusually he just uses whatever mild soap he can find but that maybe explains why some of his paintbrushes are barely holding a point any more.

“All sorted?” Ignis asks.

Prompto nods, adjusting the canvas board under his arm and quickly glancing over the contents of the basket Ignis is holding.

“Lets go find our wayward prince,” Ignis suggests.

He’s not hard to find, in the back part of the store where fewer people are because, frankly, the stuff is more expensive back here. He’s pretty absorbed in checking the price tags on the range of easels.

Prompto rushes forwards and grabs his arm, pulling him away.

“Nope,” he says.

“But -” Noct chokes on a laugh and tries to tug Prompto back over, “You said you needed one.”

“Want,” Prompto says, coming to a stop, “Not need.”

Noct sighs, “Back me up here Ignis.”

Ignis glances between them, “It’s Prompto’s decision.”

“Ha!” Prompto says victoriously, “Now come on, we’re wasting painting time.”

Noct scowls, but wordlessly follows him to the register.

-

“What can I do?” Noct asks.

“Just chill out,” Prompto tells him, trying to arrange his stuff the same way as last time. He could check his old piece but he’s got that fluttery, panicky feeling in his stomach again and he thinks that’ll make it worse.

“Nah, come on, let me be helpful.”

Prompto tilts his head to the side considering both the arrangement and Noct’s request.

“You wanna clean my paintbrushes while I sketch it out?” Prompto asks. It seems really _weird_ to ask the Prince of Lucis to do something so basic and menial but Noct jumps up at once to gather the bundle of brushes and head over to Prompto’s sink.

Prompto’s just started his sketch when he realises there’s a slightly tinny noise coming from his kitchen. He looks over at Noct and see him leaning over the counter, paintbrush cleaning solution in his hands and -

“Are you watching a video on how to do it? There’s instructions on the bottle.”

“I didn’t want to fuck it up,” Noct explains.

“You’re adorable,” Prompto teases and Noct’s flings his dishrag across the room at him. Thankfully it’s dry.

-

“ _Don’t_ freak out – c'mon, dude it looks great so far.”

The problem is that Prompto can’t get any more paint on the canvas right now because his hands are shaking so badly.

“Hey,” Noct says and he slips off the couch onto the floor beside him, “Stop a sec, have a drink.”

Noct pushes his lemonade into his hand and dutifully Prompto takes a sip. It tastes flat on his tongue and he doesn’t know if that’s because it’s actually gone flat or because Prompto’s struggling to focus on what’s going on around him.

“C’mon, breath for me.”

Noct encourages him to shift so his head is between his knees and rubs at his back, trying to soothe his jagged breaths.

“That’s it,” Noct encourages leaning warm and firm against his side.

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbles, when he feels more like himself.

“Don’t be,” Noct says quickly, “I kinda - well I used to have panic attacks sometimes.”

“Yeah?” Prompto asks, surprised. Noct usually seems like he gives no shits about anything, it’s hard to imagine him working himself to panic.

“After my accident, yeah.”

“Oh,” Prompto says, “Of course - sorry.”

They sit quietly together for a moment while Prompto’s breathing returns back to normal completely.

“Hey is that -” Prompto falters, wanting to know but not wanting to upset Noct, “Is that how you lost your mom? In the accident?”

Noct’s already shaking his head before Prompto’s finished asking.

“She died when I was barely more than a baby,” Noct explains, “Dad says she was never particularly healthy and she just got _really_ sick at some point and couldn’t come back from it.”

“I’m sorry,” Prompto says, “I bet she was great.”

Noct shrugs but not in a way that suggests to Prompto he _actually_ feels flippant about it, “Dad says I look a lot like her.”

They lean further into one another, looking at the paint dry on Prompto’s picture. It’s not as bad as he’d thought twenty minutes ago. It’s almost midnight but he’s over half done - probably - maybe he’ll be done in time to get something decent to campus. He wonders if Ignis might give him a ride. He’d said something about that but Prompto had started his deep dive into anxiety the moment they’d left the art store and he can’t quite remember.

Noct rest his head against Prompto’s.

“Did you - do you know what happened to your parents?”

Prompto doesn’t really know how to answer. Teeters on the edge of honesty but not able to tip over.

“Just - I know they found a database. And I know you were in foster care, but I wondered -”

“I don’t have any parents,” Prompto tells him.

“They were both dead?”

“No - they…I -” he sighs frustrated and Noct nudges their heads together again.

“It’s okay.”

Prompto swallows, “I don’t have any parents listed in my file. And everyone else does. So who knows where the fuck I came from.”

 _Cloning_. _Genetic experiments_.

Noct doesn’t respond. Doesn’t offer any opinions or try to make him feel better about it.

“You want one of those cookies Iggy and Gladio bought us?” Noct asks.

“Yes.”

\- - -

Prompto got his assignment in with an hour to spare but that ends up being the only positive he has for the rest of the week.

Nothing particularly bad happens outside not a single before two am bedtime and almost no time to spend with Noct off campus.

It means he misses out on a group dinner where he could have gotten to spend time with Gladio outside _Insomnia Ink_ and had to bail of his offer - via Noct - to help Gladio move into his new apartment on the Friday. He’d wanted to get a good look at all the books Gladio talks about when he’s sat in Eli’s chair.

He feels on edge the whole day, barely taking any notes in his morning class and unable to settle on anything at _all_ for the rest of the day.

He wants to talk to Noct, have him sit with him again and calm him down but he’s not there and he’s _busy_.

He hesitates over calling him a half dozen times and then compromises with himself and fires off what he believes to be a fairly innocuous text.

Noct calls him approximately eleven seconds later.

“ _Hey - you okay?_ ”

“Yeah - no. I don’t know.”

Prompto crawls onto his bed, settling with his back against the wall and pulling his knees up to his chest.

“ _What happened - talk to me_.”

“Nothing,” Prompto says, he laughs and is unsurprised to find it sounds a little damp. Noct makes a funny noise on the other end of the phone and then the voices he could kind of hear before rise in pitch then fall off completely.

“I think I’m just tired,” Prompto says and he drops his head onto his knees.

“ _You had a rough week_ ,” Noct admits, “ _I know its a lot, Prom. But you - you’re doing so great and you’re gonna get past this._ ”

“I just - there isn’t -”

“ _Hey, hey, breathe._ ”

“I just - I feel like I don’t have enough _time_ ,” Prompto manages to choke out and then he can’t say anything else because he can’t catch his breath.

“ _Prom, c’mon. You’re fine. You have_ time _, I promise_.”

“But what if I - what if I fail. If I don’t keep my scholarship -”

“ _Prom_ ,” Noct tries to interrupt him.,

“- I don’t wanna go back. I don’t know what’ll happen to me if I go back.”

“ _It’s okay. I need you to breathe okay. Please_.”

Prompto tries. He really does, but it takes longer than he’d like to admit and more that a little _shh_ ing and soothing from Noct for him to actually get himself under control.

“ _That’s it_ ,” Noct tells him, when Prompto’s managed to take in a handful of breaths back to back without gasping, “ _You’re okay, nothing is gonna hurt you_.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” Prompto mumbles, a short time later, wiping under his eyes.

“ _Don’t say that_ ,” Noct all but snaps, then a bit softer, “ _You don’t need to be sorry_.”

“I do - it’s not like you don’t have better things to do than talk me down from -”

“I do _not_ have better things to do,” Noct stresses.

“Right,” Prompto mumbles.

He drags his wrist back and forth across his bed spread, trying to itch at the skin underneath.

“ _I wanna be here for you_ ,” Noct tells him and he’s dropped his voice lower, “ _You’re - y’know. The best friend I've ever had_.”

Prompto inhales sharply but its not the same as before. This time it’s _good_. This time it’s because he’s _happy._

“Same,” Prompto says and Noct snorts on the other side of the phone.

“How did Gladio’s move go?” Prompto asks, wanting to talk _anything else_ and move past the crippling anxiety now that Prompto feels safely on the other side.

“ _Good_ ,” Noct mumbles - he sounds a bit tired and its only like three pm.

Prompto still has so much to do today.

He sighs.

“ _You okay_?”

“Yeah - just. Tired I guess,” Prompto says. Repetition of earlier but actually the immediate issue now.

“ _Have a nap and I’ll come round and see you later_ ,” Noct suggests, “ _Ignis is cooking so I’ll bring you leftovers_.”

“Shouldn’t you stay with Gladio, help him finish unpacking.”

Prompto also probably doesn’t have _time_ for that nap. Not if he wants to get everything -

Prompto stops the thought short. He won’t do _anything_ today if he spirals again.

“ _Nah the meat-head is all moved in, it’s all good_ ,” Noct tells him.

Prompto snorts.

“Be nice,” he tells Noct.

“ _I’m always nice_ ,” Noct argues.

They laugh.

“ _So I’ll come see you later, we can study over leftovers and caffeine, okay_?”

“That sounds great,” Prompto admits.

“ _Have that nap_ ,” Noct presses, “ _You’ll feel better. Trust me, I’m an_ expert.”

Prompto’s still grinning when he hangs up a minute later.

He casts a look at the mess on his coffee table, TV on the floor again, and tries to dig up the wherewithal to work through some math problems or sketch literally _anything_.

Prompto goes for a nap.

And Noct’s right.

It makes everything seem just a little better.

\- - -

“You could have taken the morning off,” Eli tells him, leaning against the wall where Prompto is refilling the ink rack, “You look exhausted.”.

“Nah,” Prompto says, “I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

Eli’s silent for a beat, “I _am_ really bad at front facing ink bottles.”

Prompto laughs, twisting the indigo bottle so it’s facing perfectly outward.

“You sure you didn’t come in just for a chance to see Gladio?”

Prompto turns to look at Eli so fast he almost cricks his neck.

“Of course not,” Prompto says indignantly.

He means it too.

He likes Gladio, sure, would love to get to know him a bit more, but he’s really _trying_ to listen to what Noct said about him and keep himself guarded.

He's not doing a particularly good job though - just two meetings in and he can feel an infatuation knocking on his door.

So he definitely isn’t here _just_ to see Gladio but he won’t mind if he gets to.

“Well _I_ think you stand a chance,” Eli says, “You’ve never clocked him staring at your ass.”

Prompto flushes, all the way up to his ears.

But that’s _nice_.

Even if he shouldn’t do anything about it.

“He’s too important for a guy like me,” Prompto says.

Even if he _was_ a girl and could make those little baby shields the crown so desperately - apparently - needs, he wouldn’t _really_ be a good match.

Eli punches him lightly in the shoulder.

“I’m gonna go make my lunch, okay?” Eli asks, “Keep an eye out for the door.”

But Eli is back from the kitchen with a bowl of instant ramen before any customers appear and Prompto finishes up with the ink rack before popping his head round to let Eli know he’s going to organise the stock room before he goes.

You can _just_ hear the bell over the front door from in the stock room, so Prompto knows someone arrives but he tidies away the last of the blue roll before heading back into the shop.

“- stuff away out back before he leaves, you just caught him,” he hears Eli say.

And then Gladio’s voice, deep and warm as always, “Cool.”

Prompto tries to push down the flutter of excitement as he approaches the front desk.

“Hey!” Prompto says as energetically as he can.

Gladio’s so fucking hot.

It’s not even fair.

Prompto wants to pull _his_ hair and trace all the edges of his developing tattoo with his mouth.

Prompto’s not so good at putting things out of his mind.

Gladio smiles at him but his eyes pass over Prompto in a way that leaves him feeling a little raw. And the he can’t help but feel like Gladio’s a little disappointed in what he sees.

“I was just about to head out,” he tells Gladio, admitting, “But I’m glad I got to see you.

Gladio smiles a little wider at that - Eli’s grinning like a madman but Prompto ignores him.

“Me too,” Gladio says then, in a never before seen fit of bashfulness he adds, “I uh - got you this.”

Gladio pushes a tray of drinks onto the front counter and then pulls free what Prompto _thinks_ is an iced vanilla latte. Gladio holds it out to him and Prompto wraps his hand around it gratefully. The coffee machine was the first place he was headed when he got to _Sakara_ and now he doesn’t have to go anywhere near the staffroom and potentially interact with his boss more than necessary.

“Oh wow, thanks,” Prompto tells him, genuine enthusiasm. He takes a sip and Prompto can tell right off the back its exactly the way he likes it - double pump of the sugar free vanilla syrup.

“Perfect,” Prompto tells Gladio, “I’ll need this to get through my shift.”

Gladio’s smile softens and so do all of Prompto’s insides.

Gladio’s so _nice_. He looks all tough and terrifying at first glance but Prompto thinks he’s actually a giant teddy bear.

Maybe a _tiny_ bit terrifying.

“Glad to be of help,” Gladio says.

Prompto takes another pull through the straw and glances at the clock.

 _Shit_.

Prompto darts behind the counter for his backpack, he still needs enough time to get changed when he gets there.

“I gotta go,” Prompto says apologetically, “I’ll see _you_ on Wednesday Eli, and you next week Gladio. Sorry, bye!””

He rushes out the door, waving over his shoulder.

-

That coffee sees Prompto through cleaning up after the lunch rush and rotating all the to-go containers. There’s some spicy peanut rolls that are looking less than stellar so he dumps them in the staff fridge, wondering if they’ll be a midnight snack on the way home.

Erin comes to the table he’s wiping down, fresh napkins and utensils in hand.

“So, I thought you had a stomach bug or something?” Prompto asks her.

“No,” she laughs, “ _Double_ n Erinn has a stomach bug. Linc really needs to learn the difference between us,” Erin says, rolling her eyes.

Prompto likes _both_ Erin(n)s, but this one is his favourite. Her hair is blue at the moment but when they first met it was pink. She’d spent almost an hour one shift bemoaning the fact that Prompto could die his hair whatever colour he wanted without bleaching it first. And that, she says, is a wasted opportunity.

Prompto’s not exactly a _huge_ fan of his natural hair colour, sure, but he can’t imagine himself any other way.

“So - were they cute?”

Prompto blinks at her, “What?”

“The number on your coffee cup? Were they cute?”

Prompto presses his cloth into her hand and rushes back over to where he stashed his coffee cup, Erin’s laughter following behind him.

“Shit,” he mumbles, glad there are no customer.

“So they _weren’t_ cute,” Erin says, coming around beside him.

“Not for me,” he mumbles.

“Huh?

“I didn’t buy the coffee,” Prompto explains, “So the number isn’t for me.”

Erin frowns at him as he grabs one of the post-its from beside the register.

“What are you doing?” Erin asks.

“Copying the number down. Wouldn’t want him to miss out.”

“So he’s _not_ cute,” Erin says.

Prompto laughs, “No he’s definitely cute - in a snap me in half, pick me up one handed kind of way.”

Erin cackles - she’s got the _dirtiest_ laugh Prompto’s ever heard.

“So why are you giving him someone else’s number? Keep that hunk for yourself.”

Prompto chokes, “That’s not _fair_ , Erin. Maybe this is his soulmate, _or_ , y’know. A banging one night stand. Who knows.”

“Whatever,” Erin scoffs, “You’re too nice.”

\- - -

Prompto survive yet another week by the skin of his teeth.

He goes from his apartment to school to work and back again ad nauseam, cranking out the papers he needs and turning over the requisite art work. He’s not sure much of it is any good but it’ll stop him from failing out at any rate.

[Noct 11:21] movies when you and gladio are done

[Noct 11:21] ?

[Prompto 11:26] i probably need to get some work done

[Noct 11:27] you NEED a break. iggy says so too

[Noct 11:28] [Image 12887.jpg]

[Noct 11:28] look at his disappointed face

[Prompto 11:29] wow okay. （／_＼） yeah. i’ll meet you at yours?

[Noct 11:29] we’ll pick you up （・ｗ・）

“Kid,” Malcolm says, appearing seemingly from nowhere as Eli is showing him how to take apart and clean the main part of the tattoo gun.

“What’s up, Malcolm?” Eli asks.

“I’ve got some stuff for him to do,” Malcolm says.

“Something _useful_ for him?” Eli argues.

Malcolm raises an eyebrow.

Eli sighs.

“We’ll go over this next time,” Eli tells him, “Okay Blondie?”

“Got it,” Prompto says, disappointed.

He follows Malcolm back to the office where he’s unceremoniously handed a list.

“Get all that cleaning done, and then, if there’s time you can reorganise the catalogue.”

“Okay,” Prompto says calmly.

Prompto looks at the list - he’s not going to get to reorganise the catalogue.

-

He really only gets a chance to make Gladio and Eli a coffee because Malcolm sends him to make one for him.

He deposits the two mugs down by Eli’s station and manages to meet the concerned tilt of Gladio’s brow with a smile.

Prompto turns to leave - he’s still got to clean the kitchen and file Malcolm’s paperwork.

“Get your ass back here,” Eli says abruptly.

Prompto twirls back around. Apologetically he says, “Malcolm gave me a list longer than my arm -”

“You’re not _Malcolm’s_ apprentice,” Eli huffs.

“Can’t you overrule him?” Gladio asks Eli, taking a second to flex his hand as Eli pulls back from his arm. Prompto watches a muscle jump in his bicep and has to look away.

“Malcolm owns the place,” Eli explains, and Prompto wonders if Gladio thought this was _Eli’s_ shop. It probably should be at this point.

Eli looks up at him, “Sorry, Kid, but you come help me wrap, okay?”

“Thanks,” Prompto says, he throws another grin at Gladio, “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

He’ll see Gladio plenty after the appointment, at any rate.

-

Prompto finishes up in the office just a little before the end of his shift. The new catalogue is still empty so Prompto takes it out to the front desk and starts flicking through the old one, comparing some of the _new_ pages with the old.

Eli whistles and Prompto looks up to see a tub of ointment careening towards his face. He gets his hands up just in time to catch it.

“I trust him, you trust him?” Eli asks Gladio.

“Not done me wrong yet,” Gladio says immediately, though his tone sounds a little _flat_.

“I’m gonna talk to Malcolm,” Eli announces. He leans over to ruffle Prompto’s hair as they pass and if the shop was empty Prompto would be giving him the middle finger.

As he gets to where Gladio’s sat waiting for him Prompto pulls the slightly crumpled post-it from his back pocket where he stashed it this morning.

“Here, I saved this for you wouldn’t want you to miss out,” Prompto says, tucking it into Gladio’s palm.

He pops the lid on the ointment and starts to smear it gently over Gladio’s fresh tattoos. Trying to be attentive and thorough without lingering over his warm skin.

“Why did you just hand me my own phone number?”

Prompto stops what he’s doing.

That - makes no sense.

He looks at Gladio’s face, turned upwards towards him, and tries to find some semblance of sense in his honey coloured eyes.

“That was - didn’t the barista write that on the cup? For you? I thought - ”

“No,” Gladio interrupts, breathing what sounds like a sigh of relief, “No, _I_ wrote my number there for _you._ ”

 _That_ makes no sense either.

“Oh,” Prompto murmurs, moving on autopilot.

Did that mean - was Eli right?

Did Gladio _like_ him?

“ _Oh_ ,” Prompto says again.

He feels the heat creep up from his neck and over his face. Feeling like he’s putting out a thousand watts., he ducks his head as he pulls off bits of tape to stick down the wrapping. It’s harder with Gladio, because there’s so little skin without ink where he can attach the tape.

He chews on his lip nervously.

Gladio _can’t_ like him. That’s crazy. Prompto’s _nothing_.

It must be something else it must be -

He’s Noct’s friend.

Gladio just wants the person that spends so much time with Noct to be able to contact him. Just in case.

That must be it.

He manages to get back over to the desk without talking to Gladio again, masking his disappointment.

Not that he should be disappointed because he was _supposed_ to not be caring about Gladio like that anyway.

Prompto knows he needs to say something, needs to get out of his head before Gladio realises what’s going on.

“Prom!” he hears and Prompto hadn’t even heard the door open but there are Noct and Iggy to collect them.

He's barely seen Noct all week and it feels so great to have him here now.

Prompto feels some of the tension leave him as he meet Noct’s raised fist with his own, tapping the backs of their hands together, then their palms.

Ignis pats him on the shoulder as he passes on the way to Gladio and Prompto makes sure to send him a smile.

“You’re Prompto,” he hears Gladio say.

Noct looks just as dumbfounded as Gladio sounds and Prompto feels.

Gladio knew that, he had to know who he was.

He _had_ to know. Prompto had introduced himself, hadn’t he?

Maybe he _hadn’t_. But Prompto had given Gladio the recommendation for here so surely he _knew_ just from that.

Or _Iggy_ , Ignis must have told him.

“Didn’t - didn’t you know?” Prompto asks him.

Gladio shakes his head.

Eli’s the first one to laugh, Noctis cracks up a half second later.

“I really don’t understand what’s happening?” Prompto admits.

Gladio laughs, “You and me both, Freckles.”

“Ah,” Eli says, “Maybe if anyone ever said your name here he might have stood a fighting chance.”

Gladio shakes his head, still looking surprised and pulls his wallet from his pocket.

“What do I owe you?” he asks Eli.

-

Noct drags him to the bathroom as soon as they get to the movie theatre.

Seeing that Noct intends to actually use a urinal he hops up onto the counter between two sinks.

“Did he really no know who I was?” Prompto asks.

“I mean - I guess,” Noct says - super helpfully.

“Did you know he didn't know?”

Noct shrugs, “I knew he didn’t after the first one, but I assumed he’d worked it out by _now_.”

“Huh.”

“Iggy _must_ have known,” Noct muses. Prompto hears his zipper and then Noct comes to wash his hands in the sink next to him.

“You look so spooked,” Noct tells him, “Why’s this freaking you out so much?”

“I don’t know,” Prompto says, a half-truth.

“Come on,” Noct says, grabbing his arm and dragging him back out of the bathroom.

Gladio’s recovered much better than Prompto managed. 

“What do you guys want?” he asks calmly as the four of them step into line at the concessions stand together.

“Nothing,” Prompto says automatically.

Noct elbows him in the ribs, “He like the salt and sweet combo.”

Gladio nods them half smiles, “With lemonade - sugar free?”

Prompto flushes, only able to hold Gladio’s gaze for a second, “Yeah, thank you.”

Prompto fidgets as they move up the line, barely able to keep track of what Noct’s saying to him.

He scratches under his wristband.

He has to _ask_. He has to _know._

Making sure to keep his phone tilted away from Noct he types out a message. He’s pretty sure he knows the number by heart right now - he’s read it probably a hundred times in the last week.

[Prompto 17:39] why did you want to give me your number if you didn’t know i’m noct’s friend?

Prompto looks down at his phone when Gladio looks back over at his shoulder towards him.

“You’re not stressing about college are you?” Noct asks him.

“No,” Prompto answers honestly.

He’s really not for once.

Amazing what a distraction does for a guy. 

[Gladio 17:42] Because you’re really fucking cute.

Prompto goes all hot again, but he has to fight back a grin.

[Prompto 17:43] oh (・о・)

[Gladio 17:43] Is that okay?

 _Is that okay_? It’s the most okay thing Prompto’s ever heard.

[Unknown 17:54] i mean i’d rather be devilishly handsome or hot af but i’ll take it

[Gladio 17:55] That too.

[Gladio 17:55] I *meant* is it okay that I specifically think you’re cute as fuck.

[Prompto 17:56] more than

[Prompto 17:57] you’re kinda the hottest guy i’ve ever seen

[Prompto 17:57] except not kinda, just actually

Prompto can’t help his grin then, but he tries to keep it in check by biting into his lip.

“Shit, dude, have you seen this?”

And Noct slides his phone _literally_ on top of Prompto’s so he couldn’t see if Gladio’s messaged him back even if he had the time to do something about it.

\- - -

Prompto leaves Noct asleep.

This has happened before.

Half the time he stays asleep until morning and the other half of the time he wakes up after a quick hour power nap.

He really _is_ an expert at napping.

Prompto can’t blame him, he’s got a hard life. Hard in a different way to Prompto’s, but still hard.

Prompto’s been sleeping like garbage but he’s surprisingly not tired.

He could really do with popping his back though, his spine feels like it’s made from over inflated bubble wrap.

Prompto twists around so his head is hanging off the couch and hooks his knees over the back.

No matter how much he twists though he just can’t get it to pop. Sighing in defeat he hangs his head fully down. To his surprise there’s something sat under the coffee table - a book.

Prompto stretches from his current position, reaching as far as he can with his arm -

Anyone but Noct would have woken up from the noise his back makes, not dissimilar to rapid gun fire, terrifyingly loud over the almost muted load screen music.

Prompto groans with relief, stretching just a little further to get his fingers on the book, dragging it towards him and killing two birds with one stone.

He’s pretty sure it's Gladio’s.

It’s not that Noct doesn’t read. But - he doesn’t really read.

And he’s not sure Ignis could bring himself to read something from the _Altissia Amore_ collection.

Prompto glances over at Noct, almost one with his couch cushions at this point, and starts to read.

-

[Prompto 22:26] why the fuck is lady graybeck fucking around with the farm hand when she has LORD ABBINGDON sniffing around??!? (・・) ⋋_⋌

Prompto’s not sure what he’s expecting when he sends the message. He’s not spoken to Gladio since they were at the movies two days ago, unable to work up the courage to make the next move - and honestly not really knowing if _wants_ to - and maybe a little put out that Gladio hadn’t messaged him first.

He certainly isn’t expecting the big guy to message him back almost immediately.

[Gladio 22:29] 1. Where the hell did you find Sweetest Grace I lost that MONTHS ago?

[Gladio 22:30] 2. Lady Graybeck is a dumbass, keep reading, it gets worse.

Prompto snorts.

[Prompto 22:32] am staying with noct but he crashed after three games of smash bros and i was hanging upside down off the couch and found it under the coffee table

[Prompto 22:32] so i also learnt iggy doesn’t clean under the coffee table i guess

[Gladio 22:33] Why were you hanging upside down off the couch?

[Gladio 22:34] Noct is supposed to clean the living room himself. Iggy must be trusting that if he can’t see mess it doesn’t exist.

[Prompto 22:35] combo of being bored and really needing to click my back

[Prompto 22:36] why do i suddenly feel like i need to find noct’s vacuum?

Ah shit.

He really forgets how much Ignis does for Noct sometimes. It’s kind of insane. He gets that it’s Ignis’ job but if anyone in Eos has the middle name above-and-beyond it's Iggy.

[Gladio 22:38] Noct will sleep through it but his neighbours might be mad.

[Prompto 22:39] true. i’ll go fold all his socks or something instead

[Gladio 22:40] I’m taking Noct to campus in the morning, will you be there?

[Prompto 22:41] nah, i’ll have gotten up to run home before Noct’s first alarm goes off

He considers, briefly, ignoring his plans in favour of getting to see Gladio tomorrow but he and Noct just smashed three peoples worth of fried rice and washed it all down with a pint of ice cream

[Gladio 22:42] You mean run in the literal sense don’t you?

[Prompto 22:43] heck yeah, gotta get my cardio in

[Gladio 22:44] Can’t believe I’ve gotta wait until Sunday to see that cute little ass of yours.

Prompto blushes, even though there’s no one there to see it and flails his legs, kicking out in glee.

He’s never going to be able to put Gladio out of his mind.

Prompto wonders if _maybe_ he just needs to get him out of his system. Even if the idea of having to know Gladio just as a friend after whatever seems to be going on between them fizzles out is oddly painful.

This is the perfect chance to side step the flirtation and set them on the straight road to nothing more than friendship.

Prompto decides not to take it.

[Prompto 22:47] what is it they say? absence makes the dicks grow longer?

[Gladio 22:48] I’m not sure that’s what THEY say but it is what I say.

[Gladio 22:49] Now go to bed before I keep you up all night.

Prompto’s tempted to ignore him, push it further but he’s in Noct’s apartment with the prince asleep three feet away so it can’t actually go anywhere satisfying.

[Prompto 22:51] sure, send me away just when its getting GOOD

[Prompto 22:52] night big guy （*＾3＾）

[Gladio 22:53] Goodnight, Freckles

Prompto covers his his face with his arms and doesn’t uncover himself until Noct wakens with a groan and shoves him slightly in the side with his foot.

“What time is it?” Noct mumbles around a yawn.

Prompto rolls off the couch and stumbles to his feet.

“Almost eleven,” he says.

“Dude,” Noct says sounding more alert, almost shocked, “How come you let me sleep so long?”

“Thought you needed it,” Prompto says simply, making his way to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just gonna load your dishwasher,” Prompto tells him, unable to shake the need to do something to make Iggy’s life easier.

The garbled noise Noct makes is probably inquisitive.

“Just wanna pull my weight,” Prompto adds.

Noct sighs and then groans as he too gets to his feet, “I’ll help.”

Prompto wishes Noct could help him work out what to do about Gladio, but something tells him that’s not a conversation either of them will enjoy.

\- - -

“Like this?” Prompto asks, showing Ignis his little half moon carrot slices.

“Perfect,” Ignis says and Prompto grins at him, feeling proud of himself. He pops a carrot slice in his mouth and Ignis just smiles indulgently.

“Don’t care what they look like,” Noct says, “Not eating them - holy shit, Iggy you’re not using that.”

Prompto looks up, surprised, and watches as Ignis adds just the smallest amount of paste into a frying pan. Judging from the pot its in Ignis must have made it himself.

“What?” Prompto asks, “What’s wrong?”

“That stuffs hotter than Ifrit’s balls is what,” Noct says looking genuinely terrified of the stuff.

“I’m diluting it with plenty of coconut cream, Noct, it would be a shame to waste it. The peppers were expensive,” Ignis scolds gently.

Prompto looks between the two of them, “How spicy?”

“I bought some peppers imported from Galahd and thought I could use them like leiden peppers, I was _quite_ mistaken,” Ignis explains, “Here.”

He puts just a tiny dab on the ends of a teaspoon and passes it over.

Noct winces when Prompto pops it in his mouth but -

“It’s nice,” Prompto says, dumbfounded.

Ignis takes the spoon back, cleans it against a fresh tea-towel and scoops up a bigger amount.

Prompto pops it into his mouth and savours the flavour. It’s spicy and sweet and salty and not for the first time Prompto marvels at Iggy’s ability to put together a recipe.

Noct frowns at him.

“Let me try it again,” he tells his adviser.

Iggy’s smirking when he passes Noct a spoon and Prompto all but cackles when Noct immediately scrunches his face, eyes filled with regret.

While Noctis chugs milk - “Not from the carton, Noctis!” - Ignis packs up the rest of the paste.

“You ought to take this home with you, get some real use out of it,” Ignis tells him.

“You’re fucking unnatural,” Noct wheezes, wiping away his milk moustache.

The word freezes Prompto from the inside out.

Hadn’t he thought that about himself a thousand times?

But Noctis -

“Shit,” Noct says, “I didn’t - I didn’t mean that.”

Of course he didn’t. Noct had only said that _because_ he didn’t think that. Noct thought Prompto was _so_ normal that he hadn’t even thought not to say that.

He can feel Ignis looking at them but he focuses on Noct’s earnest face, telling himself it’s _okay_.

“Well - maybe the Nifs lined my stomach with lead or something,” Prompto manages to tease.

Noct’s face stays unsure for an almost uncomfortable amount of time before it cracks with a smile.

“That’d explain it,” Noct says.

Ignis says nothing, of course, but then Prompto kind of thinks he already knows.

It’s nice of him to pretend otherwise though.

\- - -

[Gladio 18:51] I can’t imagine you running in the snow. Didn’t you just freeze solid?

[Gladio 18:51] You're teeny tiny. In the BEST way, I promise.

[Prompto 18:52] okay. here me out. have you ever exercised in LAYERS?

[Gladio 18:54] That sounds so rough. I’m a gym shorts only kind of guy.

[Prompto 18:55] tease (*^.^*)

[Prompto 18:56] where did you guys end up going for dinner?

[Gladio 18:57] Some Altissian place off the harbour.

[Gladio 18:57] Noct likes the fish so much he’ll be coerced into eating a couple mouthfuls of peas.

[Prompto 18:58] that has to be seen to be believed

[Gladio 18:59] You know you were invited?

[Prompto 19:01] deadlines are kicking my ass

[Gladio 19:02] Sorry, Freckles. I’d promise you it gets better but I have a feeling it only gets worse.

[Prompto 19:03] kill me now (ㄒoㄒ)

\- - -

“Least he warned us, I guess.”

Prompto snorts, swapping sheets with Noct and flipping to the back of the book for the answers.

Prompto’s _slightly_ better at math than Noct but it’s by the absolute tiniest _fraction_.

Ignis would be proud of his attempt at math humour, he thinks.

“I always do like half a grade worse on pop quizzes just because of the panic,” Prompto admits.

Noct smiles at him sympathetically.

“Prompto,” Ignis calls, “It’s seven-thirty.”

“Shit,” he mumbles, scrambling his stuff into his back pack.

“Are you sure I can’t give you a ride?” Ignis asks, stepping more into the living room just as Prompto’s zipping up his bag.

“Traffic is dumb,” Prompto says, “I can just cut through the streets and get there in half the time.”

“Call when you get off work, we can study over video chat,” Noct suggests.

“I’m closing,” Prompto says, “I won’t be off until midnight, probably.”

“What time is the last bus?” Ignis asks - even though this is one of those things Prompto knows he already knows. He’s asking simply to make a point.

Prompto grimaces at him.

“I see,” Ignis says, but makes no further comment.

“Meet you early on campus?” Noct offers though he too is grimacing now.

Prompto laughs, “You got it buddy.”

Noct raises his palm and Prompto taps his own against it, “Bye guys!”

Prompto races down the stairs because the sooner he gets to work the longer he’ll have to suck down a vat of coffee before having to deal with the types of people that want cheap-ish sushi and substandard noodles between the house of eight pm and midnight.

They’re a mixed bunch usually, but the waft of alcohol _usually_ gets more severe the later the time.

He watches his feet as he runs, worried about tripping on the stairs, and as such doesn’t notice he’s about to barrel right into someone until its about four seconds too late to do anything about it.

“Oof,” he says as he stumbles back, right into the arm Gladio raises to catch him.

Gladio smiles down at him, all roguish with white teeth and stubble across his jaw.

Prompto wants to lick it.

Which is probably weird.

“Hey there. If you were trying to rush off before I got here you’re too late,” Gladio says.

“I wasn’t!” Prompto rushes to explain. He takes in Gladio’s expression again and realises he was teasing. Prompto laughs, relaxing a little, “I’m gonna be late for work,” he explains.

The coffee isn’t quite as appealing now though.

Gladio’s eyes flit over him and Prompto remembers _you’re really fucking cute_ , feeling emboldened enough to put his hand against Gladio’s chest.

He’s touched him before, of course, with much less clothing involved, but Gladio’s skin is still warm even through his t-shirt.

“I didn’t know you were coming to Noct’s today,” Gladio says.

That’s because he really wasn’t supposed to be. Prompto had sketches he’d much rather be working on over math homework for a class he didn’t want to take in the first place. Or photos that need editing for, well, himself.

“Me neither, but we got told we’re having a test on Tuesday so we decided to have a little impromptu cram session,” Prompto explains.

Gladio drops his arm from around his shoulders and Prompto’s disappointed for the half second it takes for that hands to trail down his arm. He suppresses a shiver at the obvious sword callouses and firmly _does_ _not_ think about what those hands might be able to do to _him_.

Gladio touches his jaw and Prompto meets his eyes again, going hot all over at the obvious hunger there.

When was the last time someone wanted him so openly?

“So about the favour I owe you,” Prompto reminds him, trailing his fingers over his chest slightly.

Prompto’s schedule is a mess, but he’s deep dived off the fence, onto the side of getting whatever he can from Gladio.

It’s not gonna last forever, he knows, might not even last that long.

But it’ll probably be a hell of a ride.

“I’ve not given you the book yet,” Gladio reminds him.

Prompto grins up at him, fluttering his eyelashes just _so_.

“I think you’re good for it.”

Gladio grins back, “Sunday? We could do something after my appointment.”

Prompto doesn’t want to keep putting him off, obviously, but he can’t afford to spend any time doing anything but schoolwork this weekend. He’s already on the cusp of falling behind.

“I have to study more for that test and I have a massive project due for my portrait class,” he admits.

Gladio seems unfazed. “Need a model?” he offers, and he flexes one of his arms.

Prompto giggles, eyeing the muscle.

He’s never going to get over the way Gladio looks. Not ever.

“Next time.”

Prompto wonders if he actually _means_ it or if he’s just flirting. Prompto would _love_ to sketch him, he’d never want to stop.

“What day can you squeeze me in then?” Gladio asks.

“Tuesday?” Prompto says, that gives him plenty of time to get ahead a little, “After my test I should have a breather and I know Noct and Iggy are at that _thing_ so they cancelled your normal plans.”

“Sounds good,” Gladio agrees, “What time are you done with school.”

“I have a lecture until six and then I’m all yours,” Prompto tells him.

“I’ll meet you on campus?” Gladio suggests, “Then take you for some food.”

Prompto wasn’t expecting _that_.

From everything Noct had told him - and Gladio’s own actions - he’d figured Gladio would just want to, well, _hook up_.

Prompto’s had relationships that rode on the side of casual before and they definitely didn’t ever include food Prompto was expected to eat outside of a car.

“You don’t have to do that,” Prompto assures him quietly, ducking his head again.

“I want to,” Gladio says earnestly.

Prompto smiles up at him, wondering if he can maybe keep Gladio down here a little longer. See if -

His phone blares shrilly from his back pocket.

Twenty minutes until his shift starts.

“Shit,” Prompto blurts, “Work.”

Gladio nods, smiling gently, “Will it be quicker if I drive you?”

Prompto shakes his head, already backing away, “Not with the evening traffic.” Hopefully he adds, “Text me?”

Gladio winks, lifting one hand in a wave, “You know it.”

\- - -

Prompto thinks he might be the only person cleaning the toilets at _Insomnia Ink_.

Malcolm hadn’t even used words today. Just tucked the bucket with all the cleaning supplies next to the front desk where we was going over some of his art with Eli and gestured at it before shutting himself into the office.

“Sorry, kid,” Eli tells him, “Your stuffs really good though, gets better every week.”

“Thanks,” Prompto says, “And - you know. If I apprenticed anywhere else I’d have to clean the toilets and stuff.”

“I just want you to learn,” Eli says, “Malcolm will stop his weekends soon, I promise. And we’ll work more on stencils and stuff.”

Prompto grins, “Thanks,” he says again.

Somehow he doesn’t get to see Gladio arrive _and_ manages to miss Malcolm leaving for the day.

Prompto looks up from where he’s organising back dated magazines - Eli told him that Malcolm talks about throwing them out every other week - to see that its way past halfway through Gladio’s appointment time.

Admittedly the job is taking longer than it should because Prompto keeps getting distracted by the contents of said magazines.

Prompto lets himself out of the office and shoots Gladio a smile as he makes his way into the kitchen.

He makes a mean coffee now, if he does say so himself, so he makes up cups for Eli and Gladio wondering if anyone else had made Gladio a drink before now.

“There you are,” Gladio says warmly as he puts the cups down.

“Hey,” Prompto says, feeling a little shy. He looks at the feathers on Gladio’s arms, now come to life with details and shading, “That looks so good - really awesome.”

It’s everything Prompto always knew a tattoo _could_ be.

He wars within himself, hating the thing on his wrist while wanting something new for himself.

Eli had ask him about doing him a tattoo last week, but Prompto’s not sure he’s ready yet. It’s stupid of course, Prompto already has a tattoo, another _shouldn’t_ be a big deal. But it is.

He’d caught Eli looking at his sweatband a few times and Prompto knows he suspects there’s _something_ under there but Prompto doesn’t know if Eli has any idea exactly what it might be.

Prompto tries to convince himself it would be okay, to just show Eli the mark and let him know _exactly_ why Prompto’s struggling, but he’s still afraid.

Noct reacted well, sure, but Noct doesn’t often think the way most people do.

“I’m really happy with it,” Gladio agrees.

“Did you finish the magazines?” Eli asks.

“Not even close,” Prompto admits.

Eli laughs, “Good. Sit down, you’ve not seen me do much of this before.”

Prompto drags a chair over and takes a seat. He doesn’t need telling twice – not now Malcolm's not here any more.

“Thanks for being so cool about this,” Prompto says to Gladio as he watches Eli’s hands moves across his skin.

“Huh?” Gladio says, “What do you mean?”

“For letting me gawk at you - like, I’m sure it’s not what you were expecting.”

Gladio laughs, “You know, with you I don’t mind so much.”

Prompto flushes when Gladio winks at him. Eli snorts.

“You see,” Eli says to him, getting him to focus again, “You angle,” Eli presses the needle to Gladio’s skin differently than normal, “And then you move, almost like you do in a sketchbook but not quite because the idea is to leave some skin behind.”

“ _I’d_ certainly prefer it,” Gladio teases

Prompto chokes on a laugh.

Prompto stays with them for the rest of Gladio’s appointment, he’ll still have a couple hours left after he leaves to get everything packed back up.

He automatically grabs the tattoo cream as Eli starts cleaning Gladio up.

“Draw up a few small things for next week, the right size to fit on oranges and you can try out a needle while I work on Gladio’s other arm,” Eli tells him.

Prompto almost drops the tub.

Eli must be shitting him. He thought it would be _months_ before he got to touch real equipment.

“For real?” he checks.

“You’ll have to make do with oranges while we’re open,” Eli explains, smiling, “I’m not having slabs of pig skin in the studio. It grosses people out.”

Prompto would like to avoid pig skin forever actually so he’s fine with that.

“That’s because it _is_ gross,” Prompto points out, grimacing.

“I _wondered_ how you guys practised at first,” Gladio says, “I assumed tattoo artists just have a host of terrible tattoos we can’t see.”

Eli laughs, “Oh we _do._ My first three on skin are on my own legs. Freckle’s probably will be too.”

“Not - not until I’m ready,” Prompto says quickly, embarrassed by the way his voice cracks.

“You’ll decide,” Eli assures him then gestures at Gladio, “Will you wrap him while I go ring this up? Same time next week Gladio?”

“Sure,” Prompto and Gladio say together.

“I need more cream, too,” Gladio adds, sitting up for Prompto, “Can you add it on? I’m going through a _tonne_.”

“Oh, I bet,” Eli says. Prompto nods in agreement, it’s a beautiful stretch of canvas, Gladio’s skin, but there’s _a lot_ of it. He gently rubs cream against the sore skin, trying not to irritate it further.

“I’ll sell you a box at discount,” Eli offers. He cracks his back as he stands, audibly popping.

“You don’t need to do that,” Gladio tells Eli.

He is ignored.

Prompto wipes excess cream off against his thigh and reaches for the tape.

Gladio touches his arm, stroking the length of his arm and Prompto face pulls into a smile before he even realises it.

Gladio waits until Eli is busy behind the counter before reaching with his not sore arm to feel down the length of Prompto’s bare bicep.

“You better have my book,” Prompto teases.

“Mhm,” Gladio murmurs, “It’s in my bag.”

Prompto can’t bite back his grin, stomach fluttering as he finishes wrapping Gladio up. Prompto pats Gladio’s hand to let him know he’s finished.

“All done,” Prompto says, “How’s it healing in general? Itching driving you mad?”

Gladio seems to consider for a second, “I thought it’d be _worse_ to be honest, after everything my Dad said. Iggy thinks it _would_ be worse if I wasn’t so good at finding excuses to take my shirt off.”

His grin is that roguish thing again that makes Prompto hot up to his ears.

Prompto giggles, he can’t help it, Gladio makes him feel all gooey.

Something about that triggers a warning in Prompto’s head but it’s easy to ignore when Gladio’s squeezing his arm again and looking at him like that.

Prompto follows Gladio to the counter, absolutely not staring at Gladio’s ass while they walk.

Because that would be unprofessional.

Eli has a box of the magazines on the front desk, sealing it back up.

“You’re done kid,” he tells Prompto, “Get the hell out of here.”

Prompto sputters, “I’m supposed to stay until eight.”

“I know you’re swamped with school stuff _and_ you came in on Wednesday,” Eli reminds him.

Which is fair. But Prompto had felt bad about that shift he’d barely worked half of last week, Eli might not have needed him to make up the time, but Prompto had.

“Go home, get some shit done,” Eli tells him firmly.

Prompto grins at him, laying it on thick, “Aw thanks Eli, you’re the best.”

Eli rolls his eyes, “Uh huh.”

Prompto can tell he’s secretly pleased.

-

Gladio walks him home.

Gladio walks him home and doesn’t once complain when he stops to take a picture or gets distracted mid sentence.

Prompto could get used to Gladio’s arm around his shoulders.

Gladio doesn’t even flinch when he sees where Prompto lives, even though he’s sure Gladio grew up in a mansion and has an apartment like Noct’s.

Prompto turns to him at the end of his drive, presses his palm against Gladio’s chest.

Prompto takes a half step forward.

“I’d invite you in,” Prompto murmurs, looking up under his eyelashes, “But I think it might make me flunk out of college.”

He means it too. If Gladio comes into his apartment he’s done for, the whole day will be wasted.

Not _wasted_ , actually. But he’s not getting and school work done.

“I’m _that_ distracting?” Gladio teases.

“You know you are,” Prompto says, rolling his eyes.

“I guess I’ll have to leave you to it then,” Gladio says, sighing.

He tucks back some of Prompto’s hair, fingers surprisingly gentle against his jaw.

Gladio seems to _just_ hesitate before adding, “But it might be a good idea to give you something to remember me by. Just in case.”

Prompto’s hand grips tighter to Gladio’s tank top.

 _Holy shit_.

Okay.

Prompto can handle this, he’s ready for this.

“Uh huh,” he agrees in a daze.

Prompto pushes up onto his tip toes before he can chicken out, sealing his mouth against Gladio’s.

Gladio cups his jaw a little more firmly, angling his head to kiss him deeper.

Prompto makes a noise, he knows he does. He can’t be embarrassed though, not when Gladio’s body is drawing his own and he’s finally got the chance to tangle his fingers into Gladio’s hair.

Gladio nips at Prompto’s bottom lip and Prompto’s absolutely fucked.

Done for.

Casual.

Right.

Prompto can do casual.

He absolutely can.

If it keeps feeling like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really tried to get to the smut already but it was really important to establish Prompto as a serial animal rescuer, I guess. I never intended to rewrite the entirety of Saturation and I keep catching myself doing it. Prompto has a lot of thoughts.  
> Also: Eli ships it. Hard.


	4. October 25th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto's fine. He's got this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I’m late. I don’t know what’s going on with me, I thought I’d recovered but I think I got sick again somehow. I feel recovered *now* but everything I do is taking me longer than usual. Just know I’m trying guys. Thanks for being patient. You guys are the best <3 To make up for it I give you this chapter that is both extra long and full of smut.  
> Also, why did no one tell me there was a typo in the summary (つ﹏⊂) I’ll never recover.
> 
> Prompto’s Scholarship adviser originally appeared properly in chapter two but I had to cut the scene because it wasn’t working. She’s a good egg though, just so you know.

From: Ellen Worth (e.worth@insomniauniversity.edu)

To: Prompto Argentum (p.argentum@insomniauniversity.edu)

03/10/756 08:04

Hi Prompto,

Any chance you can pop in to see me after your classes today?

I know it’s a long one for you but I’ll still be here until

about 7 if you can make the time. Something has come up

with one of your scholarships and I just want to talk to you

about it and go over your options going forward.

You’re not in any trouble, don’t worry!

Ellen:)

-

“Dude, Iggy’s gonna be on my ass about this essay,” Noctis complains as they stand waiting for a pick up by the front gate.

“Training is important too,” Prompto says, distracted.

“Are you sure you’re _okay_? You aced the test, dude, don’t worry.”

Prompto looks up at Noct for the first time in a while, takes in the prince’s frown and plasters a smile across his own face.

“Of course,” Prompto says, “Sorry, just got college stuff to worry about.”

“I wish you could come over later,” Noct says, “We’ve earned a break. Maybe tomorrow?”

Prompto’s not going to tell Noct, obviously, but _he’s_ pretty glad Noct is otherwise engaged this evening. He’s not sure how else he would have arranged a meet up with Gladio while keeping it so effortlessly secret.

“I can come over after work, sure thing,” Prompto agrees - Noct makes a face at the mention of work, “Is your thing this evening gonna be _awful_?”

Noct shrugs, “Pretty much. Gotta wear one of my suits and everything.”

“You poor thing,” Prompto mocks gently. Noct punches his shoulder.

A sleek black car pulls up then and when nobody gets out to greet them Prompto realises it’s not Ignis so there's no one for him to say greet. He bumps the fist Noct raises for him.

“Text you later,” Noct says, walking away. Prompto lifts a hand in a wave.

-

Prompto’s picking coloured wax from beneath his fingernail when his phone vibrates. He’s still got an hour of this class left but their teacher is pretty lax with them. Too many rules stifle the creative process, they say, and Prompto’s already got a pretty good approximation of the fruit bowl on the go. Even if his colours are blending just a little _muddy_ for his liking.

He expects a message from Noct, complaining about being cooped up in the Citadel but it’s not.

[Gladio 14:09] Noct’s in a killer mood so I assume the test was the opposite of fun. How are you?

Prompto considers his options but decides to answer honestly. Besides, he has something he needs to ask.

[Prompto 14:15] could have been worse i guess but not easily. think we passed though which is what matters

[Prompto 14:16] i know we agreed 6 but i have a last minute meeting with my scholarship adviser can we push to 6:30?

[Gladio 14:17] Of course, no worries.

Prompto pops the phone back down and picks out a green pastel. Maybe he can save the highlighting on this apple. After a couple minutes where Prompto makes things better and then worse again his phone goes off again.

[Gladio 14:21] Everything okay?

Prompto’s not told Noctis he’s potentially about to hit money issues and he’s sure as hell not going to Gladio either. He thinks they’d ultimately amount to the same thing anyway.

[Prompto 14:25] yeah!

-

Prompto knocks on Ellen’s door just a few minutes shy of six pm and she calls for him to enter immediately.

“Hi Prompto, come in and take a seat,” she says warmly, flipping through some papers on her desk.

“Hi,” he says nervously, “How are you?”

She beams at him, surprised, Prompto thinks, that he’d thought to ask her.

“I’m well, thank you, Prompto.”

Prompto sits down in the seat across from her desk as she pulls out a folder and opens it up before clicking something on her computer.

“Now,” she says, “I have bad news I’m afraid. You currently get a small bursary from the -” she pauses to look at something in his file, “ _International Art Cooperation_ that you currently put towards paying for your accommodation.”

Prompto nods. It was a bursary that he hadn’t even directly applied for, but the university had automatically put him in line for because he was _indeed_ an _international_ art student. It’s really not a lot of money, just exactly enough he doesn’t have to worry about his rent at all.

“But not any more?” Prompto prods.

Ellen gives him a sad little smile, “Unfortunately they’ve decided to withdraw support going forward. All money you’ve already been allocated is yours to keep of course, but next semester you’ll need to arrange something else to cover the remainder.”

Prompto frowns, “Did I do something wrong? I thought I was hitting all my scholarship criteria -”

“No no no,” Ellen rushes to explain, “They’ve withdrawn support from _all_ ten students that receive their assistance. You’ve been doing fine - exemplary even.”

Prompto lets out a relived huff of air.

“Now I looked through all the money you receive financial aid wise and there’s nothing else we can filter towards accommodation because everything else is ear marked for tuition or specific supplies.”

Prompto gets vouchers to help him buy his course books and a cash payment twice a semester to aid in his purchase of art supplies. There’s nothing to stop _him_ from using that to pay his rent when it’s in his pocket but that’ll just mean he’ll be scraping money together for that instead.

“Do I have to pay it all at once?” Prompto asks, wondering how he’ll scrape together such a large sum of money even with the amount of time until it’ll need to be paid.

“No,” she says at once, “We can set up a monthly payment for you and -” she leans towards him and drops her voice even though they’re in an enclosed office “- between you and me if you ever are _late_ with a payment nothing will really happen as long as you pay before the next one is due.” She winks at him.

Prompto chuckles despite himself.

“You already work, yes?” she asks.

“Got a job right away,” Prompto tells her, “I like to eat from time to time.”

She laughs as she writes something on a yellow post-it note and passes it over.

“It’s really not very much money when divided up into monthly instalments,” she explains.

Prompto glances down at the number and feels a little more tension leave him.

It’s manageable. Prompto might have to try and spread out his arcade money a little more and reduce how often he eats out but he’ll manage. Maybe Linc will give him an extra shift a week. Maybe next semester he’ll even have time to work that extra shift without exhausting himself.

“I’m sorry this happened,” Ellen tells him, “You’ll be alright?”

“Yeah,” Prompto answers honestly, “Thanks for taking the time to explain what was going on.”

“You’re very welcome, Prompto. Now tell me - how is everything else? You’re settling in okay? Classes going well?”

-

Prompto takes the second bite from his beautifully spiced burger, and settles more comfortably in the booth of this upmarket burger joint. All things considered this is probably the weirdest casual sex he’s ever had.

It’s not that Prompto doesn’t appreciate it, he does. The burger is fantastic - though the price tag might have sent him into a tailspin if Gladio weren’t being so insistent on paying - and Gladio’s company is even better. He’s more attentive than pretty much every boyfriend he’s ever had and it just doesn’t tally up with the way Noct had painted him.

If this is casual Prompto can’t help but wonder what _serious_ Gladio is like - wonder, not hope. Prompto knows what this is, he’s fine with what this is.

His schedule is crazy. It took so long to find time even for this, he can’t imagine having to carve out time to do this a couple times a week.

Casual is fine by him.

He swears.

“You ever have any pets?” Gladio asks, jolting him from his reverie.

“Hmm? Oh - nah, never been allowed one.”

Not a lie. Not even a white lie, really. He really has never been anywhere that would allow pets.

Prompto doesn’t know what Gladio knows about him, maybe as much as Ignis - however much that turns out to be - or maybe nothing at all but Prompto sees no reason to share any of the less than pleasant stuff with him. Certainly not right away.

Maybe once Gladio’s bored of him and they settle into being friends Prompto can think about crossing that bridge, but not yet. He doesn’t want it to end _too_ soon.

“Man, you scream animal person though,” Gladio says thoughtfully.

Prompto presses his palm to his chest and says, “In the depth of my very soul I am.”

Gladio laughs.

Prompto remembers poring over _Wilds of Lucis_ for literal days on end as a child, tucked up against Maria’s side tracing the image of a chocobo over and over. He’d often wondered if they’d ended up in Lucis too, but no matter how hard he tries he can’t remember her last name.

“If art doesn’t work out I’m totally opening up a chocobo ranch,” Prompto jokes - though that doesn’t sound half bad actually. His bus had driven past a sign for one as it travelled from Galdin to Insomnia and he’s had a fancy for visiting ever since.

“Build it by a decent lake and Noct will come for a visit and then never leave,” Gladio assures him.

Prompto scrunches up his face, “Man, I can’t believe Noct _fishes_.”

“You’re surprised Noct picked a hobby where he gets to sit down and be by himself for hours at a time?”

Prompto snorts, bubbles from his fancy lemonade going up his nose. He chokes and then coughs, cheeks flaming from embarrassment.

Gladio grins, handsome as anything and reaches across the table to press the back of his fingers to Prompto’s cheek.

“So fuckin’ adorable,” Gladio murmurs.

Prompto only grows _warmer_ then, pleased and hot all the way down to his toes. He nudges Gladio’s foot with his own and when the big guys face perks with interest Prompto braves caressing Gladio’s leg with his ankle.

Gladio shakes his head but winks. “Finish your food,” he instructs.

Prompto obediently reaches for a fry.

Not wanting to get completely hot and bothered in public Prompto takes another sip of his soda and asks Gladio, “How’s your sister?”

Gladio tilts his head, considering, “Pretty great to be fair, all recovered from surgery. She's a great kid overall, hit her teens with minimum fuss.”

Prompto nods, like he understand when really he _doesn’t_. Not many people came into his children’s home _before_ their teens and remained there into them. Only Prompto.

“You got any siblings back home?”

Prompto shakes his head quickly.

Gladio opens his mouth like he wants to ask more then seems to change his mind. Instead he says, “It’s nice to have someone to grow up with, but there’s such an age gap between us we were never gonna be _friends_ , you know.”

“How many years?” Prompto asks, acutely aware that he knows how old Gladio’s sister is but not Gladio himself.

“Eight - though she’s fifteen before I’m twenty three.”

So there’s three years between them, Prompto thinks. Not the biggest gap he’s ever indulged in to be sure.

“You’re a pretty great big brother to have looking out for you though, I bet,” Prompto says.

“Yeah?”

“Dude,” Prompto says flatly, “Have you see you?”

Despite Gladio’s urgency earlier he doesn't request the cheque as soon as their plates are cleans and asks the waitress to bring another round of drinks.

“I don’t believe you don’t have a favourite artist,” Gladio says as she walks away again.

Prompto shrugs, “I just like art. Everything has merit.”

Gladio rolls his eyes and insists, “But there’s no one you like more than anyone else?”

“Not really,” Prompto says honestly. Things might be different, he supposes, had Prompto had an opportunity to experience true art in person but he hasn’t. Maybe over time he’ll find something.

“So you have a favourite author?” Prompto asks.

There’s barely a beat between Prompto’s question and Gladio’s answer, “Edric Branson.”

“You didn’t have to think about that at _all_.”

Gladio chuckles, “I love everything he’s ever written.”

“What are they like?” Prompto asks, genuinely interested. He’d enjoyed _Heavenly Fall_ and _Sweetest Grace_ much more than he ever thought he would.

“Magical fantasy at the core, but with political sub-plot and, y’know, romance too.”

“So no dicks?” Prompto asks, maybe a touch disappointed.

Gladio chuckles, “Slightly less dicks,” he concedes, “But a higher calibre of smut.”

“Excuse you,” Prompto says in mock offence, “Don’t disrespect Lord Abbingdon like that.”

-

Gladio pulls up outside Prompto’s apartment in one of the parking spaces put aside for residents. One of them is so close to his front door it almost feels like a driveway just for him. It might as well be too as no one ever uses it apart from Ignis when he drops him off. As far as Prompto can tell the whole block is students and, like him, have no hope of affording a car.

Gladio touches his thigh and Prompto immediately flushes again. He feels taught like a bow string even though nothing has happened yet.

Prompto twists in his seat so he’s looking up at Gladio and murmurs, “You wanna come inside?”

Just in case it’s not obvious enough where Prompto wants this to go.

Gladio murmurs his assent but his hand slips further up Prompto’s thigh and he’s leaning down to close the gap and press their mouths together like he can’t wait any longer.

Prompto gets it.

He grabs for Gladio’s arms a little tentatively, aware he was tattooed just a few days ago but Gladio neither flinches or discourages him so Prompto dares to cling a little tighter, levering himself closer into Gladio’s body.

Gladio makes an appreciative noise against his mouth and parts his lips to kiss him deeper and Prompto moans outright at the first brush of his tongue.

It’s so intense so fast Prompto feels like he’s been punched in the gut by his arousal.

Gladio’s hand slips up to his hip, his other hand coming to grab the opposite thigh and Prompto’s suddenly moving, lifted into Gladio’s lap like he weighs nothing in a dizzying display of strength that has his dick going from pretty interested to rock solid in three seconds flat.

Gladio tugs at the short hair at the base of Prompto’s neck and their mouths pop apart. Prompto might have delivered a formal complain had Gladio not simply moved his mouth across Prompto’s jaw - mouth warm and stubble tantalisingly rough - to start working on his neck.

Prompto moans when teeth touch his skin and Gladio rumbles back a happy noise, hands sliding round to palm his thighs and ass. Prompto rocks into him, pressing his dick against Gladio’s hard abs and makes another noise - pleased - when he feels Gladio’s own dick solid against his thigh like it’s answering a call.

It’s one thing to _know_ Gladio wants him on paper but it’s another thing all together to grind down against his hard - _huge_ \- dick and get a rumbling groan from his chest. Prompto answers with a breathy noise of his own, shifting his hands up Gladio’s biceps and across his shoulders.

Prompto’s seen Gladio shirtless plenty of times now, even touched his bare chest before but it feels different, better, when he sneaks his fingers beneath the collar of his shirt to get at some of his warm skin.

Gladio’s hand digs into his thighs then - _holy shit_ \- and pulls Prompto forwards so they’re pressed impossibly close together.

Prompto pants, grinding down onto Gladio again, knowing he’s acting a bit desperate, shameless even, but feeling just that in this moment.

Why haven’t they gone inside yet? Prompto not saying he _won’t_ let Gladio tear him apart in this car but it’d be easier in his bed.

Gladio squeezes his thigh and Prompto whimpers, reaching for the long part of his hair to tug at it, try and pull Gladio’s attention away from the skin of his neck so they can move inside -

Gladio kisses him instead going in for the kill with no preamble and Prompto whines low, gripping Gladio’s hair tighter and trying to meet him move for move. The hand on his thigh moves then, slipping upwards, edging up beneath Prompto’s light sweater to gently touch the small of his back. Gladio’s hands are a little rough, but amazingly warm and every nerve in Prompto’s body suddenly seems to be located in that patch of skin.

It takes a second for him to recognise the noise as being outside himself and not just a rhythmic buzz inside his own head. Gladio’s phone keeps ringing, persistent and relentless.

“Shit,” Gladio murmurs barely pulling away from him to speak. Gladio moves like he might just go back to kissing Prompto so he digs up every drop of self control and presses both palms to Gladio’s chest to push them apart.

Only a little - he’s not a mad man.

“Might be Noct,” Prompto tells him.

And wouldn't it be just like Noct to cock block him by accident.

Gladio releases his hold on Prompto and grabs for his phone. If it _is_ Noct, Prompto knows, Gladio will have to leave, but maybe it’s _not_ Noct and they can get back to it.

“It’s my sister,” Gladio says.

Prompto clambers off of Gladio as he pulls the phone to his ear. He’s pretty sure that’s put paid to making out in the car, at least for now. As he settles into the passenger seat he reaches to adjust his dick more comfortably in his jeans. It’s _probably_ not going to go anywhere on it’s own for a while.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” Gladio asks his sister and Prompto glances up at him, concerned by the frown he see there. Gladio listen for a moment, frown deepening, and then he’s shh-ing and soothing his little sister.

“I’ll come home and we’ll take him to the doctor okay,” Gladio tells her, and the last bit of hope Prompto had that Gladio might still take him inside evaporates. He wishes he could say the same about his hard on. To convince his body of it’s sad, lonely future he tugs at the edge of his sweater, pulling it back into place and reaches for his backpack where he’d wedged it securely in the foot well

“Less than fifteen minutes, alright?” Gladio says into the phone.

Gladio turns to him as soon as he’s hung up the phone, “Sorry. Jared fell down,” Gladio tells him. Prompto doesn’t know who Jared is but he can see the actual concern on Gladio’s face alongside the disappointment Prompto knows he’s echoing.

“He’s not young so, it’s best to get him looked at,” Gladio further explains.

“It’s cool, don’t apologise.” Prompto assures him, “I hope he’s okay.”

Gladio gives him a smile and a hot look that makes Prompto’s cock attempt to jerk a hole in his jeans.

“Rain check?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods, opening the door of the car so he can get some air before he does something stupid.

“Text me,” Prompto tells him getting out of the car quickly. He slams the door closed behind him and almost sprints to his front door.

He fumbles with the lock - of course he does - and starts to unbutton his jeans even as he’s kicking it closed behind him. Prompto struggles them off, pushing them and his boxers down together so his dick can breath, hanging heavy and hot between his thighs. He hurriedly kicks out of his shoes and strips his sweater off too.

Prompto _could_ settle on his bed and make a real thing out of this but it’s much easier to start up his shower - plus some scented lube and a plastic toy aren’t going to make up for missing out on what he now knows is hidden in Gladio’s pants.

The waters not really hot when he gives up waiting and climbs in but it doesn’t lessen his arousal at all. Prompto takes hold of himself at once, managing to stroke himself to a blistering release so quickly there’s still enough time for him to enjoy a hot shower before the water runs out.

\- - -

“How was your thing last night?” Prompto asks Noct, popping his last fry in his mouth.

He’d bought lunch with him, serious about cutting down on how much he spends on food but Noct had fries waiting for him when he joined him at the bench. _Their_ bench, Prompto likes to think, because somehow it’s always ready for them.

Prompto’s probably just never witnessed Crownsguard shooing kids away from it. Which doesn’t feel so good. But then - they’re not always here, right? He’s literally never caught sight of them after that first time.

“Was okay,” Noct admits, “I mean they went well but that’s boring politics stuff you don’t need to worry about.”

“Try me - I mean if you wanna talk about it.”

Noct shrugs, “We’re not buying coal from Niflheim after next year because we _like_ the environment and Lucis is probably uniting with Tenebrae in a, like, official way in the next maybe five years.”

Noct blushes then - nothing like Prompto’s blush, obviously, just a faint pink dusting across his cheeks, but it exists.

“Oh yeah?”

Noct rolls his eyes, “Shut up.”

Prompto chuckles, “The coal thing is cool though.”

“Yeah, the council didn’t get it at first so I’m glad they listened to me,” Noct adds before seeming to realise what he’d said and closing his mouth with an almost audible snap.

Prompto would tease him for _caring_ but he gets the feeling Noct’s already on the edge of a social meltdown so lets it pass.

Noct reaches across the table to dip a fry in Prompto’s left over ketchup - jokes on him though because Prompto mixed a hot sauce packet into when they first sat down.

Noct winces and fails to suppress a cough before swiping the last of Prompto’s lemonade to cool his mouth.

[Gladio 13:41] Jared’s fine, just a bruised hip but nothing he won’t get over with a couple days rest. . Thanks for asking.

[Prompto 13:42] i’m glad. Shame you had to leave yesterday

Jared is the Amicitia housekeeper he's since learnt. But not _just_ a housekeeper, an honorary member of the family too.

“Warn a guy?” Noct says, voice still a little rough.

“Maybe _you_ should ask first,” Prompto teases, not looking up while he waits for Gladio’s response.

[Gladio 13:43] I know, I’m gutted. Barely had time to get my hands on you at all.

[Prompto 13:44] soon

“Who are you talking to?” Noct asks suddenly, something _odd_ in his voice.

“Huh?” Prompto looks up surprised and presses the lock button on his screen.

“You’re texting someone else -” Noct cuts himself, blush deepening to an almost legitimate red.

“Well, yeah,” Prompto says, not understanding.

“I just - I didn’t know you hung around with anyone else,” Noct mutters. He chews his next fry almost angrily and Prompto stares at him for a moment trying to work out what's wrong.

“Oh,” he says. Affection swells painfully in his chest, alongside a weird streak of pride that Noct seems to be _jealous_ of the other friends he thinks Prompto has.

“Dude, you don’t want these texts from me,” Prompto tries to explain while being as vague as possible.

The explanation of _I wanna split myself in half on your Shield’s dick_ is not a thing he’s willing to say.

Noct frowns at him, utterly confused, head tilted and everything. Prompto’s just wondering how he can make it more clear without spilling _all_ the beans when Noct suddenly says -

“Oh. _Oh_ ,” Noct swats at his shoulder, “Yeah. Don’t send me pictures of your dick, please and thank you.”

“Dude, I’d _never_.”

He would actually. Probably. If he was really in the mood and to the right person.

Definitely not to Noct, though.

\- - -

[Noct 19:21] you never told me who it was

[Prompto 19:22] who what was?

[Noct 19:22] dick pic guy

[Prompto 19:23] there have been no dick pics

[Noct 19:24] (￣ー￣;)ゞ

[Noct 19:24] okay. no pic dick guy. who is he?

[Prompto 19:25] why does it matter?

[Noct 19:26] its my obligation as your bestfriend to make sure theyre not a creep

[Prompto 19:27] they’re not a creep. promise

[Noct 19:28] so just tell me who they are

[Noct 19:28] i dont want you to get hurt. maybe i know something about them you dont

[Prompto 19:29] i’m not going to get hurt. don’t worry about this. i know what i’m doing

[Noct 19:30] i feel like you’ve probably said that before and then gotten hurt anyway

[Prompto 19:31] its not nice to call your best friend out like that

[Noct 19:32] prom

[Prompto 19:33] noct

[Noct 19:34] ╮(╯_╰)╭

[Noct 19:34] you’ll let me know if anything changes

[Prompto 19:35] you’re the only one i would tell

-

Prompto really should be working on the main project for his graphic design midterm but he’s just _not_. He’s kind of doing graphic design - except he’s not at all - but he absolutely cannot submit a complete graphic novel of _Sweetest Grace_ for his midterm so he just needs to stop. It’d probably be some sort of legal issue, not even to mention that the brief is to do a redesign for a business and not perfect his ability to draw intertwined bodies.

He’d thought of doing _Insomnia Ink_ but it’s so cool already it felt like blasphemy to try and change it. _Sakana_ however, has had the same logo through three different owners and it needs some serious work. Prompto just won’t tell Linc about it.

Prompto does know _someone_ that might enjoy his efforts though.

[Prompto 22:31] [Image SG_1.jpg]

[Prompto 22:31] can’t concentrate on my graphic design project but i can graphic-novelise big chunks of sweetest grace apparently

Prompto hadn’t realised just how late it was until the little time stamp on his phone blinks up at him. He stands and heads over to his little kitchen area to boil his kettle for a caffeine shot as he types out another message.

[Prompto 22:32] help me i’m gonna flunk because i stole a smutty book from you

It might be _too_ late for a reply he realises, but it’s no matter. He can totally get on with his work now, bury his fun sketchbook somewhere out of sight and -

[Gladio 22:34] Holy shit, you’re amazing. That is something I would totally pay good money for.

Prompto feels a low flutter of excitement quickly chased by a stronger swoop when his phone vibrates again.

[Gladio 22:35] What’s your schedule like tomorrow?

Prompto’s never hated his schedule more. Midterms can suck his dick.

[Prompto 22:36] classes until 4 work at 5 ( ￣＾￣)

[Gladio 22:38] Wanna grab a coffee in between? Food maybe?

It takes him thirty minutes to get over to work from campus but if Gladio’s got his car and doesn’t mind driving him it maybe would be okay.

But why?

Why does Gladio want to see him _tomorrow_? What's so urgent? Has he changed his mind? Is he calling this - whatever it is - off?

Prompto's excitement twists into nervousness in half a second flat.

[Prompto 22:39] gonna cash in on that free sushi but caffeine will be super appreciated

Particularly if he’s going to be up as late tonight as he thinks he will. He doesn’t need to _finish_ tonight but the more he can get done before passing out the better. He doesn’t have as many essays to write as Noct, but he has a thing for his Solheim class. And these art projects are kicking his ass. Creating to a brief is still and adjustment, even after a few months.

[Gladio 22:41] I’ll meet you in the front car park.

[Gladio 22:42] Now either go to sleep or get started reading Heavenly Fall, I’m waiting for your rants, Freckles.

Prompto wishes he could obey but instead he pours hot water onto instant ground ready for the rest of his night.

[Prompto 22:43] night big guy <3

\- - -

Prompto’s last lecture runs over by a few minutes so it’s almost ten past four by the time he makes it across campus to where Gladio’s waiting for him.

“There you are,” Gladio greets him warmly and it eases some of the unease he's been dragging around all day. During his extremely brief coffee break this morning Noct had asked him _three_ times if he was absolutely definitely okay.

Luckily he can blame his preoccupation on school stress without lying.

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” Prompto apologises but Gladio just waves him away, diverting his hand to squeeze his thigh. His other hand retrieves a coffee from his cup holder and hands it off.

“I realise it’s kinda cold and maybe you wanted a hot coffee,” Gladio says, adding thoughtfully, “I should have asked what you wanted.”

“I only switch to hot coffee for Pumpkin Spice season,” Prompto jokes, “Yes, I’m basic. No, I don’t care.”

Gladio laughs, glancing out the window as Prompto takes a drink.

Suddenly Prompto feels nervous again, worried about what’s to come.

He rattles his cup nervously and says, “Thanks for this - and saving me from the impromptu run. I gotta try and get this shift changed.”

“Any time,” Gladio says, turning back to smile at him. His eyes are warm and Prompto gets lost in them for just a minute.

“Did you, um, did you need something?” Prompto makes himself ask and managing not to properly stutter. Thank the Astrals.

Gladio sighs, “It’s just that I was with Noct the other day -”

“I haven’t told him,” Prompto interrupts, if Noct knows then he found out without Prompto’s assistance. He rushes to explain, “He’s being a pest but I didn’t want to make things awkward or anything.”

“It’s not that,” Gladio says earnestly. Prompto bites down on his bottom lip, trying not to worry about what’s about to happen, “I just realised we never talked about what we were doing.”

Prompto tries not to make his relief obvious, busying himself with his straw again as Gladio glances at the clock and starts the car. He reverses out of his space and navigates the student car park.

“I’m not looking for a proposal,” Prompto says eventually once they’re on the main road.

Gladio laughs, deep and rough, like he’s surprised by it. When he sobers he says, “I just wasn’t sure if you thought -”

“We’re just having fun,” Prompto interrupts _again_ , “I know you have obligations. I’m not dumb.”

Gladio’s never said it explicitly of course, but Prompto has the information from Noct. And - burger withstanding - Gladio’s not been acting like someone that wants to take him home to meet his parents.

“I don’t think you are,” Gladio says sincerely, “Noct just said -”

“Noct is choosing to not understand what I’m telling him, don’t worry about it. In don’t even have time for that shit honestly -” Prompto tells him and it’s _true_. He doesn’t have time for a proper boyfriend even if he wishes he did. Prompto loves his little apartment but he’d like it even more if sometimes he could curl up in his bed against another body.

“A bit of casual stress relief is right up my alley,” Prompto tries to convince Gladio. And perhaps himself.

“Good,” Gladio breathes, reaching for Prompto’s thigh again, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Prompto’s slightly surprised to discover they’ve reached _Sakana_ already.

He's wound up tight from how stressed he’s been over the last few weeks so throwing caution to the wind he says, “Speaking of fun, speaking of de-stressing; I’ve already had the week from hell and I get off at ten.”

Fuck all the work he still has to do, if he doesn’t get _something_ soon he’s liable to explode.

Gladio perks up, little lopsided grin reaching his mouth.

“That’s awful late,” Gladio says slowly and Prompto deflates slightly, devastated that his ploy failed -

“It’d be safer if someone drove you home,” Gladio adds thoughtfully.

Prompto smiles and just to _make sure_ says, “I might need seeing all the way inside too, just to be on the safe side.”

“Oh of course,” Gladio replies, mock seriousness out of place on his face, “I _never_ leave a job half done.”

Prompto levers himself out of his seat quickly to press his mouth against Gladio, aiming for quick and teasing but getting caught by one of Gladio’s big hands and held in place to have his mouth properly plundered.

When he’d finally released Prompto sucks in a shaky and necessary breath to sigh, “I gotta go.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Gladio says, giving him one last peck and a scorching look.

Prompto’s filled with a buzzing excitement for his entire five hour shift. It must do something to his face, or they way he talks, because Erinn keeps smirking at him and he makes _amazing_ tips off the few people that eat inside. What he feels is hot and tense, wound up tight while the time ticks slowly onwards.

“So what are they like?” Erinn asks, elbowing him in the ribs while he’s trying to cash out one of the tills.

Prompto opens his mouth then closes it again. “I don’t know what you mean,” he tries.

Erinn giggles, “You’re a terrible liar.”

“What I am is _done_ ,” he says, stuffing the last of the cash into the tray and locking it up, “Linc is still here yeah?”

“In his office,” Erinn says, “Don’t worry I’m not here alone.”

“Just don’t like the idea of you doing the ‘drunk shift’ by yourself,” Prompto tells her.

“You’re literally too sweet,” she complains, shooing him out from behind the counter.

“Bye Erinn!” he calls to her on his way back from the staff room with his backpack on one shoulder.

Gladio’s waiting for him, parked up against the road where he’d dropped Prompto off earlier.

“Hi,” Prompto says oddly breathless as he climbs inside.

Gladio leans over to kiss his cheek before starting the car and asks, “How was work?”

Gladio smells so good - fresh soap and the rich scent of his aftershave - Prompto’s immediately a bit self conscious. He’s been up since seven and sure, he’d had a shower this morning, but he probably smells like sushi and paint.

“Long,” Prompto says eyeing Gladio greedily, incredible arms exposed by his tank top.

“My evening too,” Gladio admits, “Had to go to the gym to distract myself.”

“You better not have tired yourself out,” Prompto complains.

“Not even a little,” Gladio promises.

“Good, ‘cause I’ve got plans,” Prompto says.

“Share with the class?”

Prompto giggles and chews on his lip, “Prefer to show you.”

Prompto has too many plans really, more than can be accomplished in a single night but mostly he just wants to tear off Gladio’s sweatpants and get at the amazing cock he knows is in there.

Hands, mouth, ass; he doesn’t really care. Just something.

“Tease,” Gladio says fondly.

The roads are pretty empty this time of night and Prompto’s home in a quarter of the time it would have taken him normally. He scrambles out of the car as soon as Gladio’s killed the engine, not wanting to get distracted _again_.

Gladio comes up behind him while he’s still getting his lock undone and presses straight up against his back, hands on his hips and mouth finding a home on the back of the neck.

Of _course_ his lock chooses that moment to stick and Gladio chuckles against his neck when he lets out a frustrated groan. Gladio’s hands slip up under his sweater and t-shirt to stroke his ship bones.

Prompto shivers.

His door pops open and he shuffles forward slowly, waiting for Gladio to release him before rushing in and immediately toeing off his boots.

The silence is kind of startling and makes Prompto feel unnecessarily anxious so he mumbles, “Bathroom is there,” pointing at the only door and offering, “I’ll stick a movie on.”

He gets the TV on and picks the first thing that _Moogleflix_ offers up. As he waits for it to load Prompto yanks his sweater off over his head, leaving his t-shirt behind and twists toward Gladio and going up on his tiptoes so he can get his arms around his mouth attached to Gladio’s.

Gladio makes a vaguely surprised noise that turns into a hum of appreciation as his own hands come back down to Prompto’s hips.

Prompto kisses him deeply, not caring about seeming as needy as he feels and takes a step back towards his couch. Gladio follows, hands slipping under his clothes again and sweeping much further up his back than before.

Gladio pulls his mouth free - Prompto maybe whines but he covers it up by kissing his way across the masculine edge of Gladio’s jaw - and glances behind Prompto. He slides his hands out from Prompto’s clothes and abruptly grasps Prompto’s thighs, lifting him from the ground. Prompto gasps, biting Gladio’s neck gently, wrapping his legs around Gladio’s waist and using his grip on Gladio’s shoulders to lever himself up enough to seal their mouths back together.

Gladio kisses him back, holding Prompto securely as he lowers them onto the coach, Prompto on his back with Gladio’s weight enticingly above him. He’s pleased to feel that Gladio’s as hard as he is, pressing insistently into the bony part of Prompto’s hip.

Gladio rucks up his t-shirt almost at once, pushing it out of the way so his hands can get at Prompto’s skin. Prompto returns the favour, sneaking his own fingers under Gladio’s tank top to feel the hard edge of the abs he’s spent _weeks_ thinking about.

Gladio’s fingers brushes against Prompto’s nipple and Prompto feels his cock twitch uncomfortably in his jeans, patience reaching its breaking point. He tugs on Gladio’s sweatpants, letting Gladio know what he’s after.

Gladio groans, mumbling a low, fervent “Shit,” before sitting back just enough to ease the band of his sweatpants away from his dick.

It slaps down onto Prompto’s heaving stomach with an audible noise that makes Prompto feel _desperate_ , reaching for it at once and feeling the hot - huge - weight of it against his palm. He strokes Gladio once and the Shield drops back down onto his arms and pressing his mouth to Gladio’s throat as Prompto starts to work him in earnest. He teases beneath the head and Gladio groans, his next pass over the head comes away slick.

Those vague plans from earlier vanish into one solid thought: Prompto wants that in his mouth. Now.

“Fuck,” Prompto mutters, whining, “Fuck, fuck.”

He presses against Gladio’s chest, and he moves back after a second so he’s kneeling between Prompto’s spread thighs looking more like a bronzed statue of a god than any human being has any right too.

Gladio strokes some hair off Prompto’s face and trails a feather light touch across his throat. _That_ shouldn’t make Prompto ache in his pants but it does.

“You okay?” Gladio asks, all obvious concern and clearly taking Prompto’s gesture to mean he wants to slow down and not just a need to get a better angle at his dick.

Prompto nods rapid fast and digs his teeth into his lip.

Gladio _wants_ him, he tells himself as he feels shyness try to creep in. Prompto has the weight of that want hard and pulsing in his hand.

“Will you - can you lie back? I want -” Prompto cuts off, frustrated at himself for stuttering through it and _not_ managing to be the confident being he wishes he could be.

“Anything you want,” Gladio says quickly. He moves to follow orders and Prompto slides out of the way, standing at the edge of the couch hard and wanting but not willing to risk giving himself any relief.

Gladio reaches for him but Prompto steps away from his hands, clambering up onto the couch between Gladio’s spread thighs and pulling his sweatpants roughly out of the way.

It’s a cramped space but Prompto’s short and he’s worked in worse conditions. He strips off his own t-shirt though, so he doesn’t get too hot and starts to run his palms against Gladio’s toned thighs. Prompto had always thought _his_ thighs were muscular but they’ve got nothing on Gladio. He wonders how many ways there are for Gladio to just _wreck_ him.

He giggles, “I knew, I fucking knew it would be this great.”

“You talking about my dick?” Gladio teases, taking a hold of it and stroking from the base to the very tip. Prompto watches it intensely, mouth watering, and almost misses the second question. “Or just this in general?”

“Both,” Prompto says immediately. He’s pretty sure he knows the answer but it feels important for him to ask anyway, “Please tell me I can put that in my mouth. _Please_.”

“Fuck _yes_ , Freckles, do whatever you want.”

Gladio grunts, squeezing his dick one last time before getting his hands out of the way.

Prompto ducks down, dragging his tongue from base to tip with no preamble. Gladio hisses and, encouraged, Prompto moves up to suckle at the tip, getting a taste of the dampness he'd felt there earlier as a reward.

Gladio twines his fingers into Prompto’s hair, gently and then more securely when Prompto moans his encouragement around the steel flesh in his mouth.

“Shit,” Gladio says roughly as Prompto starts to sink down, taking him more fully into his mouth. Gladio’s huge, obviously, the biggest Prompto’s ever had _but_ he’s always been good at this, always _liked_ doing this.

He likes the weight on his tongue, the stretch of his jaw and the burn when he edges them to the back of his throat. He even like the smell and the taste, loves to push himself to his limits and get them so deep in his mouth - his _throat_ \- that he’s nosing at their skin again when they come.

Prompto nudges Gladio’s girth towards his throat, swallowing reflexively and distracting both him and Gladio from the way he _almost_ chokes by twisting his tongue around his length before he realises he needs to surface for some air.

Prompto pants, chest heaving as he stares at Gladio’s glistening, red tipped length and his clenching abdomen.

Gladio cups Prompto's jaw, thumb tracing around his lips and Prompto feels a surge in his gut, not dissimilar to arousal but markedly different somehow. Prompto nips at the digit then turns his face into that big hand, nuzzling nose and lips against it while he finishes steadying his breath.

He ducks back down, presses an almost reverent kiss against Gladio's thigh and then licks the entire length of him again. He takes it slow, sliding Gladio fractionally deeper with every pass. He can’t get Gladio all the way down though - _yet_ he tells himself - and that disappoints him until Gladio grunts lightly, hips jerking.

Prompto puts his hands on Gladio’s thighs so he can’t get caught off guard by his movements. He knows he can’t actually keep Gladio still, if Gladio didn’t _want_ to stay still but he feels Gladio’s thighs tense beneath his fingers and feels a delicious surge of power that a guy as big and strong as Gladio is bending to his will.

“Fuck,” Gladio groans, fingers sharp in Prompto’s hair as his releases a spurt of pre-come right onto Prompto’s tongue. Prompto moans at the taste and presses down, taking Gladio the deepest yet and relishing in the intense burn at the back of his throat.

Gladio’s cock attempts to twitch in his mouth and Prompto’s own dick gives a needy throb, probably making a mess of the front of his jeans.

“Gonna come soon,” Gladio roughs out giving Prompto’s hair a gentle tug.

Definitely not, he thinks, only if Gladio _tells_ him to get off dick is Prompto giving up the chance to swallow everything down.

Gladio tugs again, but the other way, so Prompto’s got him pressed deep again. He digs his fingers tight into Gladio’s thighs to ground himself and moans around Gladio, hoping the extra sensation helps push him over.

“You’d like that, huh?” Gladio says, voice rough.

Prompto’s stares up at him, meeting Gladio’s eyes, needy and seemingly darker than normal. His brow is tense, but not in a negative way, just the obvious effort he’s exerting to hold himself back. Prompto whines, unwilling to let Gladio out of his mouth and legitimately almost comes in his pants when Gladio says, “Want me to fill you up?”

The noise he makes is new to his own ears and Prompto struggles to regain his rhythm, so distracted by the suggestion of a future filled with _dirty talk_ , he tries to give the rhythm up to Gladio by tugging on his hips and encouraging him to move.

Gladio puts both hands onto Prompto’s head, cradling him carefully in place as his hips shift and thrust, dragging himself in and out of Prompto’s mouth less deeply than Prompto was expecting.

A short yell precedes the flood of Gladio’s release and Prompto swallows at the first taste, catching it all and not letting a single drop go to waste.

Gladio’s hands turn soft against his head, fingers stroking and pulling through his hair and when Gladio starts to soften Prompto pulls free, licking up any residual stickiness as the Shield heaves deep breaths above him. Prompto’s both exhausted and wound tight enough to explode, and he presses his forehead into Gladio’s hip as he attempts to breath through his _need_.

Prompto shifts restlessly. He just can’t help it.

“You, better take your pants off and get the fuck up here,” Gladio all but growls and Prompto almost breaks his leg rushing to comply.

He comes embarrassingly fast, naked and writhing on Gladio’s lap with a strong hand working his dick like a professional.

Prompto makes a lot of noise, he knows that, he always has and has always been embarrassed by it but he can’t _help_ it. The noises just bubble out of his throat with every pass of Gladio’s hand.

Prompto takes a little longer to catch his breath than Gladio did but Gladio lets him stay there, all but collapsed against his broad chest with one of his hands cradling his waist, petting him softly. He spots little indentations on Gladio’s shoulders as he straightens up - oops - and Prompto presses a kiss against them as he gets shakily to his feet.

He all but stumbles into the bathroom and runs the tap so it’ll get warm, digging a fresh flannel from his little caddy and wetting it. Prompto’s mostly clean, his spend had spattered delightfully against _Gladio’s_ abs but he gives himself a perfunctory wipe down and rinses the cloth. His pyjamas are still where he’d kicked them off for his shower that morning so he grabs the bottoms and slides into them.

The cloth is almost burning hot when he picks it up but cools rapidly to sensibly warm as crosses back the couch where Gladio is still reclined. He wipes up the mess himself, taking the opportunity to get even _more_ familiar with Gladio’s abs.

When there’s no more excuse to touch him Prompto forces himself to offer, “You want a shower or anything before you go?”

Not that he doesn’t want Gladio to use his shower, though it’s probably barely big enough for him, but because Gladio’s warm and resting against his chest had been incredibly comfortable. Prompto could probably fall asleep against it in seconds.

Gladio clears his throat and arches his hips in a really distracting way to tug his sweatpants back over his hips.

“I’m good,” he says.

Prompto smiles as wide as he can, satisfaction tinged slightly with disappointment and trying not to focus on it. He ducks to kiss Gladio briefly and grabs Gladio’s tank top from the floor.

“I’d offer you a hoody to wear home ‘cause its gotten cold but you’d need to give me the time to sew two together for you,” Prompto teases, grinning for real now.

Gladio smiles back and sits up. He grabs for Prompto’s wrist, hand firm above Prompto’s wristband, and tugs him to be standing between his legs. He pulls Prompto in for another kiss - a better one, all wet and probing that steals the breath right out of Prompto’s lungs.

“Text me,” Gladio begs against his mouth, “Let me know when you’re free again?”

“Absolutely,” Prompto promises breathlessly.

Prompto kisses him again and then Gladio’s up, pulling his top back on and letting himself out.

Prompto turns off his TV and all the lights, climbing in to bed, feeling satisfied enough that he manages to drift off to sleep without dwelling on the abrupt feeling of loneliness that swells unexpectedly inside of him.

\- - -

“I don’t know why you didn’t sleep better yesterday,” Noct laughs while he nudges him towards an outdoor table, “You’ve got no more exams left. Should have slept like a baby.”

“I stayed up -” he yawns “- to read.”

Noct scrunches his face like he’s never heard of such a thing.

“I’ll get us coffee,” Noct says, shoving Prompto’s shoulders gently so he plops down into the seat behind him.

[Gladio 12:32] You surviving?

[Prompto 12:35] i made it to lunch but noct might have to inject my frappe straight into my veins

Prompto raises his phone and switches onto his front camera, angling it so he can see Noct queueing for the coffee cart over his shoulder. Prompto looks exhausted and he normally wouldn’t send a picture so poorly put together but it certainly helps get his point across.

Also Noct seems to have snacks too, so he’s got that going for him at least.

[Gladio 12:38] You’re still fucking cute. If that helps.

It _does_ help and Prompto squirms a little in his chair as he starts to type his reply.

“Is that - are you texting Gladio?”

Prompto jumps, fumbling with his phone and almost dropping it to the floor.

“What?”

“Prom,” Noctis says seriously, “Is the guy you’re seeing - is it Gladio?”

Prompto tries to speak, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before giving up and just half shrugging, feeling helpless.

It’s one thing to lie by omission, just not _tell_ Noct what’s going on but he can’t actually lie to his face, he won’t do it.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto blurts.

Noct’s face flips from mild anger to utter confusion in half a second.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re mad,” Prompto blurts, “I know that I’m not good enough but we’re not -”

“Shut up,” Noct seethes.

Prompto snaps his mouth closed again.

“Noct,” he says softly.

“What did he say to you?” Noct growls.

“What?”

“What did Gladio tell you to make you think that?” Noctis reiterates but Prompto still doesn’t understand.

“Think what - Noct -”

“This has nothing to do with _you_ , Prom,” Noct says, “You’re good enough for anyone. That’s not why I’m upset - I’m _not_ upset.”

The sentence is, quite frankly, a lot of information to take in and process.

“You _seem_ upset,” Prompto says, feeling dumb.

That pulls Noct up short and he takes a deep breath. Slowly he puts the drinks down on the table beside the paper bag he’s carrying and takes a seat.

“I’m not upset with you,” Noct says.

“Don’t be made at Gladio either,” Prompto tells him.

“He’s gonna hurt you,” Noct says.

Prompto rolls his eyes, “He’s not.”

“He’s made you think you’re not good enough,” Noct says.

“Uh - no. That’s just, y’know, logic.”

Noctis glares at him.

“I’m just - nothing. Like, I don’t even get why you’re _friends_ with me so of course I’m not good enough for Gladio but -”

“Astrals, _shut up_ ,” Noct says, “Don’t say that shit in front of me. We’re friends because we want to be. That’s all that matters. Gladio’s not good enough for _you_ , if anything.”

Prompto snorts.

“I mean it,” Noct says.

“Think about where I was _born_ , Noct,” Prompto says quietly.

“What does that matter?”

Prompto blinks.

“If that’s - then why are you mad?” Prompto stumbles.

“Gladio can’t - _won’t_ \- give you what you want,” Noct mutters.

“This _is_ what I want,” Prompto says feeling heated, “I already told you that. We’ve been through this.”

Noct huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Can you stop trying to tell me how I feel for maybe one second,” Prompto snaps.

Noct physically leans back from him, eyes wide.

“Sorry,” Prompto says, looking around him for the Crownsguard he expects to see storm out of the shadows and take him away.

“Don’t be,” Noct says, “You’re right.”

“Shouldn’t have snapped,” Prompto mumbles.

Noct shrugs dismissively.

“I’m not gonna be okay with this,” Noct admits, “But I can - can look past it as long as you’re happy.”

“Thanks,” Prompto breathes.

Noct smiles, his shy little half grin and reaches for the paper bag.

“I got you a chocolate croissant,” Noct says, “And an extra shot in your coffee.”

“You know me so well,” Prompto coos, knocking their shoulders together.

He hesitates, bite of croissant in his mouth, before pulling up his phone to check his messages from Gladio. Noct doesn't outwardly react to the move to Prompto supposes he really meant what he said.

He’d sent no less than three nonsense messages with his fumbling and he quickly messages back. Trying to ignore the odd thump of his heart when he sees the short form of his name.

[Gladio 12:39] ??

[Gladio 12:47] Prom? You okay?

[Freckles 12:55] yeah! sorry, goofed with my phone

[Freckles 12:55] that *does* help thank you very much

[Freckles 12:56] gotta run to class. cya tonight <3 x

He doesn’t actually have class for another half an hour but he’s not sure he can talk to Gladio more without spilling just what happened. He’s not sure if he should tell him, even if he wanted to, because _maybe_ Noct won’t say anything to Gladio and this entire drama can just get swept under the rug.

Prompto hates arguments, even when he’s not part of them.

\- - -

[Prompto 13:31] sorry about noct yesterday

Despite all of his wants and best efforts Noct _had_ in fact talked to Gladio about what was going on. Though _talked_ is probably much too nice a word to describe what happened. Prompto’s mostly just glad he wasn’t there for the actual _talk_.

The pizza was particularly excellent though. Even if he does have a stomach ache today.

[Gladio 13:34] It’s not your fault he’s a nosey shit.

[Prompto 13:35] still. i’m sorry he was mean to you about it. i tried to tell him

[Gladio 13:38] He’s just worried about you.

[Gladio 13:38] Maybe he should be.

[Gladio 13:39] I have a pretty terrible reputation. Maybe you deserve better.

[Prompto 13:40] nah. i’m good.

Prompto doesn’t care about that. He knows what this is and he’s kind of sick of talking about it. This thing might blow up in his face but he’s going to have a hell of a good time getting there.

[Gladio 13:41] Balls in your court. Let me know what you want and when you want it.

[Prompto 13:42] your dick, like a month ago

[Prompto 13:43] alas i am but a poor student with a schedule from hell and am not free until after our group friend date on tuesday

[Gladio 13:45] Huh. You know. I think I might be driving to your part of town after that. How convenient.

[Gladio 13:46] P.S. Please tell me Noct knows you call them friend dates?

[Prompto 13:47] that IS convenient

[Prompto 13:48] dude, it was nocts idea. you have my express permission to tease him about it

[Gladio 13:50] Oh Freckles, you are the gift that keeps on giving.

\- - -

Eli had told him to buy the biggest oranges he could find so Prompto had detoured to one of the fancy stores in the more boujie part of town on his way in that morning and spent an alarming amount of money on food that he’s not even going to eat. Prompto’s taken through the gun mechanisms again and then Eli hands him a small wad of stencils that he’d made up from drawings in Prompto’s sketchbook and told him to get on with it.

The first one goes _badly_ , all his lines are miles out from where they’re supposed to be and it’s almost unrecognisable from the original stencil. Eli simply looks at when he’s done and nods.

“On to the next one,” Eli tells him.

He’s on his third when Eli wanders over with coffee.

“That’s my job,” Prompto complains half-heartedly.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Eli says.

Prompto holds up his orange, half a misshapen flower blooming to life on the bright skin, “Should it be this hard?”

“Absolutely,” Eli says.

For some reason the place Prompto puts the needle isn’t quite the place that the ink appears. He’s tried changing the angle but it caught the flesh in way he’s pretty sure humans don’t want on their actual skin.

“So,” Eli says, so purposefully casual its sets Prompto on edge, “How are things going with Gladio?”

Prompto glances at him without lifting his head from his slightly hunched position.

“Nothings going on with Gladio,” Prompto says.

Eli kicks his chair, “I’ll believe _that_ on the 32nd day of never.”

Prompto laughs.

“I promise, there’s nothing to tell,” he says firmly.

Because, assumedly, Eli doesn’t want to hear about how much Prompto like the feel of Gladio’s dick in his mouth.

Eli sighs, “You two are idiots.”

-

[Noct 20:04] so i just had an interesting conversation with iggy

[Prompto 20:07] do tell

[Noct 20:08] it started when he said: noct, why havent you told me the plan for promptos birthday yet

[Noct 20:09] and ended when i said: because the little shit never told me it was his birthday

[Prompto 20:10] noct. buddy. pal. that story is not as interesting as you think it is

[Noct 20:11] dude, come on. its your birthday on tuesday and you didnt tell me

[Prompto 20:12] it doesn’t really matter. i kind of forgot.

[Prompto 20:13] its so weird that iggy knows when i didn’t tell him either

[Noct 20:13] dude. im sorry

[Prompto 20:14] i’m not mad, its just weird

[Noct 20:14] birthday plans?

[Prompto 20:15] weren’t we all getting food at yours anyway? no need to change anything, thats good for me.

[Noct 20:15] dude. gross. lets do something fun

[Noct 20:16] what model camera do you have?

[Prompto 20:17] hanging out with you guys IS fun

[Prompto 20:18] a lokton lx-30. why?

[Noct 20:19] lets go to the arcade after class? just us? act like we’re high schoolers with nothing to worry about but getting a high score

[Prompto 20:19] that does sound pretty great. alright i’m in

[Noct 20:20] oh hey, thats a lucian camera. figured it’d be niflheim made?

[Prompto 20:21] your cameras are better. took me a year to save up for it. totally worth it.

[Prompto 20:22] was the only thing i didn’t have to buy a new charger for when i docked

\- - -

Noct hands him a box that’s clearly Ignis wrapped but the untidy scrawl on the tag shows that Noct at least did that part himself. The paper is matte silver with a dark blue ribbon and Prompto is, as ever, impressed by Ignis’ taste.

“You shouldn’t have,” Prompto says, “But thank you.”

He tries to remember the last real birthday present he’d gotten and comes up short.

Noct shrugs, “It’s your _birthday_.”

They sit together on their normal bench, coffees cooling beside them - it’s overcast and miserable this morning and he and Noct had silently agreed it was time to switch over - so Prompto can tear into the paper.

Inside the box is another wrapped package and a box.

“Holy shit,” Prompto says, pulling it out and turning it over to examine the exact contents.

“They fit your camera right?” Noct checks, “And I didn’t think you had anything like it.”

“I don’t,” Prompto murmurs, “And they fit - thank you so much, Noct. This must have been so expensive.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Noct tells him.

But Prompto will undoubtedly worry about it anyway.

So he doesn’t waste the whole day staring at them he puts the box of lenses away again and reaches for the other package, it gives under his hands a little and curious, Prompto pulls the paper away.

Monetarily its insignificant compared to the camera lenses but the sight of it makes Prompto’s chest feel tight and his eyes damp.

“This is -” Prompto traces the design stitched into the soft leather. A stylized skull and crown of the Lucian royal family.

“You can’t buy stuff like this, it has to be given by the crown,” Noct says, “It shows that you’re important.”

Prompto’s mouth trembles.

“I thought - if you want to keep it covered then you could cover it with something special and they’d cancel each other out. But maybe that was stupid -”

Prompto leans over the small gap between them and hugs Noct tight.

“You like it?” Noct asks softly, embracing him back.

When they pull apart both of them have slightly pink cheeks and a few people close by are watching them with keen interest. Prompto's probably not supposed to do stuff like that to Noct in public but his mouth just wouldn’t work and he had to do _something_.

“Love it,” Prompto enthuses, “I’ll put it on - later. When I have some privacy.”

-

They watch Prompto’s score tally itself up on the screen and then climb up through the list of names to slot itself securely in first place.

“ _No way_ ,” Noct whines, “I’ve been trying to break the top three for _years_.”

“I _maybe_ have an unfair advantage,” Prompto reminds him, typing in his initials separated by a dash to stop the machine flashing at him. When he’s done the machine churns out a seemingly endless supply of tickets.

“Bet you could actually get something decent with that,” Noct says, watching as Prompto tries to wind them up into a neat spool.

But Prompto’s already been given more than he can handle today. His camera lenses are nestled carefully in his backpack and he put on his new wrist band in the bathroom earlier. It’s secure, not too bulky, and from what he’s felt so far won’t be slipping down or coming lose to expose him unexpectedly. He’d slipped his old band onto his other wrist, unsure how to feel about it not being on his body.

It's been a part of him for years.

“Nah,” Prompto says.

He looks around for someone to give them to and easily spots a slightly harried looking woman stood just apart from a group of pre-teen - of maybe _just_ teen - boys who are clamouring for their turn on a group of fighting games.

“You’re too nice,” Noct complains as they’re walking back away from her. He slings one arm around Prompto’s shoulder and starts to lead him back towards the front of the arcade.

“What do I need a giant stuffed garula for?” Prompto laughs.

“C’mon, Nyx is waiting for us.”

-

“So, uh - happy birthday,” Gladio says.

Prompto grins, relaxed enough after his first couple beers that he doesn’t care about how smiling this broad makes his cheeks dimple.

“Thanks,” he says.

“You should have said,” Gladio says earnestly, “I’d have done something special for you.”

Prompto blinks.

That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense really.

Gladio’s not super interested in him as a person, he knows, there’s just _something_ about the way he looks that’s peaked Gladio’s interest. Part of him would quite like to know what that is exactly, because in Prompto’s own mind it just doesn’t compute.

He’s scrawny and short, mostly, and this new explosion of freckles makes him look like barely more than a teen.

But Gladio _does_ like him, for whatever reason. And that’s enough.

“You still taking me home later?” he asks, grinning again.

Gladio’s mouth twitches into a half smile, “If that’s what you want.”

“Then I’m sure you can think of a special birthday treat for me,” Prompto teases, winking at him as he reaches for another beer.

-

“I’ll call you a taxi,” Noct offers reaching for his phone and missing. He gets it on the second grab and unlocks it quickly with his thumb.

“Gladio’s taking me home,” Prompto tells him without thinking.

“What? Why?”

Prompto snorts, “Thought you wanted me to celebrate my birthday?” Prompto wiggles his eyebrows and Noct swats at him playfully.

“Don’t be gross,” he complains, then -

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Prompto bites his tongue and as calmly as he can manage says, “I thought we’d already come to an agreement on this.”

Noct frowns at him, clearly wanting to say more but unable to based on their agreement of a few days ago.

“What’s going on?” Gladio asks suddenly, coming up behind them unexpectedly.

Noctis gestures at Prompto, movement a little wide.

“I was ordering Prom a taxi but he said he didn’t need one,” Noct says just a step off scathing, “Says _you’re_ driving him home.”

Prompto’s shifts into a more defensive posture, feels his jaw clench and reminds himself how much he likes his best friend. Reminds himself that Noct is drunk and that _this_ is a bizarre sticking point for him and it's not actually a reflection of his personality.

“That’s right,” Gladio says smoothly.

“You’ve been drinking,” Noctis accuses quickly.

“No I haven’t, you know that,” Gladio reminds him.

“Prom has,” Noctis tries instead, clearly thinking hard.

“I’ve had _three_ beers,” Prompto defends.

“Four,” Gladio says quickly.

Prompto thinks that's probably true, but he’s still taken aback by the fact _Gladio_ had been keeping track.

Prompto feels _fine_ though, he’s been drinking plenty of water and eating tonnes so unlike Noct he’s still completely steady on his feet.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Prompto says aloud.

Noct’s eyes dart between the, several times and then he sighs, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Whatever,” Noct says though the expression he shoots at Gladio is still frosty at best, “Do what you want but I swear to _Ramuh_ Gladio if you -”

“What the hell are you implying?” Gladio interrupts harshly.

Prompto bristles too, indignant at the idea Gladio would _harm_ him like that somehow or take advantage.

Gladio’s been nothing but open and honest about his intentions, telling Prompto over and over again that whatever they do it up to him.

“Nothing. Sorry. Seriously,” Noct says sounding genuinely apologetic. To Prompto he says, “C’mere.”

Prompto walks over, easily stepping into the hug Noct offers him.

“Sorry - again,” Noct all but whispers in his ear.

“Don’t worry about it,” Prompto says, brief spike of anger completely forgotten.

Noct keeps his arms around him and says, “Guess I’m a grumpy drunk.”

“A grumpy _drunk_ sure, keep telling yourself that,” Prompto teases.

Noct snorts and they pull apart laughing softly. Noct holds out his fist and Prompto bumps it with his before tapping their hands together in a precise but familiar pattern.

“Thanks. Best birthday ever,” Prompto tells him seriously.

“Dude,” Noct says, blushing lightly and punching him in the chest.

“Text you tomorrow,” Prompto tells him, hurrying off to grab his coat.

As he slips into his shoes he can hear Noct and Gladio talking and he opens up the front door to stand in the hallway and give them some privacy.

Gladio hooks his strong arm over Prompto’s shoulders when he appears, dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

Prompto goes warm all over.

“Ready to go?” Gladio asks.

“More than.”

-

He’s being overly needy again. Embarrassingly enthusiastic.

He knows it.

But he _wants_ Gladio. Wants to bend himself over the edge of his bed and have Gladio pound into him or hook his ankles up onto Gladio’s shoulders and relish every inch of him as he sinks into his body.

He wants Gladio flat on his back beneath him, supine and unmoving as Prompto rides them both to completion.

 _Prompto’s_ on his back though, on his couch again, with Gladio’s mouth descending his body - bare but for the tank top that Prompto had been too impatient to remove and instead shoved up high under his armpits.

Gladio teases one of his nipples and then kisses and licks his way to the other one which he wets with a broad flat lick before nipping. Prompto’s hips jerk and Gladio releases him, blowing softly against the nub until Prompto writhes.

Gladio leans back and stares down at Prompto’s exposed form. Eyes raking across every patch of skin, they seems to burn across Prompto’s chest and thighs before zeroing in on where Prompto is hard and aching against his abdomen.

Prompto opens and closes his raised hand in a _come here_ gesture, whining for Gladio to come back. It’s his _birthday_ and he’s getting cold gods dammit.

Somewhat horrifically Gladio gets down from the couch and Prompto genuinely thinks he could cry with frustration -

Gladio lowers himself to his knees beside the couch and grabs Prompto’s hips, dragging him with almost no effort right to the edge of the cushions. Prompto moans, delighted at the show of strength and wondering what _else_ Gladio could do to him.

When Gladio lowers his head he thinks he’s finally getting somewhere - not what he’d had in mind but it’s not like Prompto’s opposed to getting blown by an adonis - but then Gladio has the audacity to _tease_ him.

He nuzzles into one thigh, kissing it softly and moving across to the other. He kisses and licks at him until he’s over sensitised and then drags the rough scruff on his jaw across the delicate skin.

Prompto moans wildly around a stuttered breath, arching his back as his ignored dick pushes out a pulse of pre-come, sticky against his belly.

Gladio nuzzles him again, dropping one teasing kiss to his dick before switching thighs once more.

“Want you to fuck me,” Prompto bites out.

Gladio makes a noise of agreement but says, “Next time.”

Prompto would complain but Gladio chooses that moment to take the head of Prompto’s dick into his mouth. He jerks up without meaning to when Gladio starts to take him deeper, writhing against the sensations and Gladio has to bring both callused hands to his hips and keep him steady.

Being pinned down is like an electric shock of arousal straight to his dick and Prompto cries out, practically a yell as he feels himself careen dangerously close to his ending.

Gladio pops off then, breathing in a few deep lungful of air and Prompto’s honestly grateful for the reprieve.

Feeling brave Prompto raises a hand to Gladio’s hair and buries his fingers into the thick and surprisingly soft roots. He tugs playfully and Gladio goes with it, taking Prompto back into his mouth and opening wide so he can take everything in. Prompto feels himself bottom out, Gladio’s lips stretched around his base and

Well.

Prompto’s kind of hazy on the particulars after that.

He knows he’s suddenly being pinned down only by one muscular forearm, and then there’s pressure against that patch of skin behind his balls and he moans, hips trying to jerk as his vision all but whites out.

Prompto tosses his arm over his face as Gladio works him to completion and beyond, continuing to play with Prompto’s cock until he’s twitching again.

“Shit,” Prompto gasps.

“Glad to be of service,” Gladio teases, teeth sharp against his thigh. Prompto thinks that might mark. He _hopes_ it does.

“You’re not done yet,” Prompto pants at him.

“No?” Gladio asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“Nuh uh,” Prompto says thickly, unable to form full cohesive sentences, “Want that dick.”

Gladio laughs and tells him, “I’m good.”

That’s absolutely not okay.

Prompto frees himself from beneath his arm and reaches for Gladio with it, pleased when Gladio moves easily, kissing Prompto deeply as he settles over his body.

“Want it,” Prompto tries once more. Absently he's proud of himself that the taste of him off Gladio's tongue isn't completely horrible.

“Prom, you’re tired,” Gladio points out. It’s not untrue, especially now he’s come, but Prompto’s not opposed to being fucked after he’s finished. He kind of likes it in fact, the breathless over sensitivity, the idea of being hopelessly ravaged and taken apart.

“I _wanted_ to do that for you,” Gladio says gently and Prompto feels his heart flop almost painfully.

No, he tells himself, don’t you dare.

This is physical, it’s _fun_.

“And I wanna feel your dick,” Prompto says, putting them back on course, “Don’t you want me to?”

“Of course I do,” Gladio says, pressing his own impressive cock into Prompto’s abdomen, covered by the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Just my thighs then,” Prompto concedes, thinking of an alternate plan he’ll enjoy not _as_ much but a great deal, “Fucking make a mess all over me.”

Prompto’s half hard again by the time Gladio’s groaning into the back of his neck, hand tight on Prompto’s thigh to keep them pressed together and thrusting arrhythmical against Prompto’s perineum with every move of his hips.

Gladio comes in a few long spurts that drench his thighs and splatter his abdomen and swelling cock in warm seed. Prompto shivers, his dick giving a thoughtful twitch.

Gladio reaches for it but Prompto actually feels deliciously spent and satisfied so he catches the strong wrist, trailing Gladio’s fingers through the mess instead. Prompto brings those fingers up to his mouth and thoroughly cleans them up with his tongue.

Gladio nips at his earlobe, giving a low groan into Prompto’s hair when his tongue twists around his index finger.

“You’re something else,” Gladio says absent-mindedly.

Prompto’s heart does that odd thump again and Prompto focus on the feeling of Gladio’s dick still semi-hard between his thighs and his firm body pressed along his back.

“Best birthday ever,” Prompto giggles.

Gladio handles the clean up this time and Prompto only makes a half-hearted complaint about being babied when Gladio carries him over to his bed.

Gladio’s goodbye kiss lingers for a long while and Prompto thinks he’s probably still smiling when he falls asleep.

\- - -

Prompto admires the faded bite mark on his thigh in the shower, twisting himself around to get a good look at it. He presses a thumb to it as he lathers up and is completely unsurprised when his dick lurches with interest.

But Prompto doesn’t have _time_ for that this morning. He’d slept in ahead of his shift at _Insomnia Ink_ to catch up on the last little bit of rest from how busy he’s been and to prepare ahead for an extra long shift. Prompto wills his arousal way.

Maybe Gladio will give him a new mark later.

They’d not _agreed_ to hook up again today but if they’re both leaving Insomnia Ink late then it just makes sense, right?

Prompto hopes so.

-

Fi looks exactly like Eli would if you turn all the settings in a simulator to soft.

Her hair is lighter, soft waves of golden brown that fall halfway down her back and a tiny waist offset by curves Prompto would probably find more interesting were he a very different man.

She laughs bright and loud, boisterous with both her affections and words.

“So what’s up with him?” she asks Eli, gesturing at Prompto and shooting him an exaggerated wink.

Prompto shakes his head, grinning as he continues to mop behind the counter.

Eli finished her tattoo a good half hour ago and now they’re just waiting for her ride to arrive so she can clear out ahead of Gladio’s appointment. They’re still sat up by Eli’s bench though, so Prompto can get his cleaning done in relative peace.

“The kid?” Eli says, “Good apprentice - enthusiastic and all that. Nothing not to like.”

Prompto blushes and turns his back towards them so they can’t see his dopey grin. Eli’s probably just winding him up but it’s nice to hear regardless.

“I _mean_ what's up with him not having any tattoos,” Fi corrects him.

Prompto’s kind of glad his back is to them now, but for a different reason. He goes hot again, all the way up to his ears, but he’s burning with _shame_ now, not pleasure.

“I imagine that falls into the realm of shit that’s his business, Fi,” Eli tells her, voice lacking some of the warmth it’s held all afternoon.

“I bet he does you know,” Fi muses voice teasing but still managing to hurt him, “Somewhere, something really bad he has to keep hidden.”

The words cut Prompto like a knife - unexpected and sharp - harsher, he thinks, for how sweet she’s been in everything else she’d said. She doesn’t actually know, Prompto tries to tell himself, she’s just teasing, trying to get a rise out of him.

If he were anyone else, with any other childhood, he’s be laughing with her, telling her some fake story about a tramp stamp or misspelt gibberish.

“Kid?” Eli calls, “You okay?”

He’s gripping the mop really tight, he realises, but not moving it any more.

“I - I need a drink,” Prompto blurts, stashing the mop back into the bucket and making for the kitchen as fast as he can.

He can’t make it there without catching sight of Fi and Eli’s concern though and he maybe slams the door behind him a little more forcefully that planned.

Prompto pours himself a glass of water and tries to just get his shit together as he takes tiny sips.

It’s not like anyone even saw. It’s dumb to be this upset about something that doesn’t even matter.

Eli knocks on the door and Prompto clears his throat before calling, “Yeah?”

Eli opens the door slowly, standing half in and half out of it looking a touch awkward.

“You okay?” Eli asks.

“Yeah,” Prompto says though his voice cracks slightly, “Sorry - I just need -”

“Fi’s friends just picked her up,” Eli tells him, “It’s just you and me here.”

Prompto nods.

“You wanna call it a day?” Eli asks.

“No,” Prompto says quickly. He _likes_ being here, even if its just to mop floors. It feels a hundred times more satisfying than the same work at _Sakana_.

“No I want to stay,” Prompto adds more calmly.

“You wanna tell me what freaked you out - you really don’t need to be embarrassed, if its about what she said. Either that you have no tattoos or of she’s _right_. I promise I’ve seen worse.”

Prompto snorts bitterly.

“Doubt it,” he mumbles without thinking.

Eli perks up slightly, interested but not pleased and steps into the kitchen properly. He leans up against the opposite counter and waits, patient and unassuming.

Noct had been fine.

Iggy _probably_ knows and he’s never treated him differently.

 _Gladio_ probably knows and he’s fine _sleeping_ with Prompto.

Prompto breathes deep and undoes the clasp on his wristband before he can second guess himself.

Eli takes it in, eyes intent on the skin of his wrist and says, “I’ve seen worse.”

“You don’t - you don’t know what it means?” Prompto asks.

Eli shakes his head, “At a loss here, Freckles.”

He hadn’t anticipated having to explain it. It’s been a long time since the person whose seen it hadn’t just _known_.

“Do you know - do you know how the empire used to get its soldiers?”

Eli frowns, the curve of his brow getting incrementally deeper as he thinks. He glances at Prompto’s wrist and then back up at his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, kid,” Eli tells him, “You don’t deserve that.”

“No one does,” Prompto says low, securing his wristband back in place.

“We’ll work something out,” Eli says, oddly urgent.

“What do you mean?”

“About you practising,” Eli says, “You don’t have to ink your skin until _you_ want to, even if that’s never. We’ll work something else out.”

Prompto releases a puff of air he thinks he’s been holding since Eli offered him the job.

It’s not that he doesn’t want a tattoo, it’s never been that, but the idea of having to get something else he doesn’t want - something he doesn’t really get to choose - had left him feeling faintly sick to his stomach.

“Thanks,” Prompto says softly.

Eli clasps his shoulder, “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says honestly, “Thanks for not freaking out.”

Eli shifts his hand from his shoulder to ruffle his hair and Prompto makes an embarrassing noise as he attempts to sidestep him.

“Gladio will be here soon,” Prompto points out, gesturing at the clock, “I’ll put the mop away.”

-

Prompto makes everyone a coffee and as he comes back into the room cradling the three of them precariously Eli calls for a break.

Gladio stretches in his seat, muscles flexing beneath golden tattooed skin. Thankfully, Gladio’s too busy eyeing the ink on Eli’s arms to notice the way Prompto’s outright ogling him.

“When did you get your first one?” Gladio asks, pointing at Eli’s arm.

“When I was too young,” Eli explains, “Stole my cousins ID and got this super lame and _terribly_ done sequence of Solheim runes up my calf.”

Prompto hadn’t known _that_. All Eli had told him was that he’d been just fifteen when he’d gotten his first one.

“No way?” Prompto says, interested.

“Real bad, kid, you’re smart to wait,” Eli tells him, his look almost uncomfortably understanding.

“Why _are_ you waiting?” Gladio asks, “Seriously, tattoo apprentices need tattoos, surely its an unwritten rule.”

Prompto burns red. He can feel himself giving off actual heat. How many times today is this going to happen to him?

And from Gladio too?

Doesn’t he know? Didn’t he also read Prompto’s background check? It’s why he’s never tried to pull of Prompto’s wristband, right?

Is he testing him? Trying to get him to just say it.

Trying to goad the information out of him? Like a test.

“Prom?” Gladio prods.

No.

 _No_. He can’t, not right now.

Prompto stands quickly and sends Eli a searching look, begging for help.

“Why don’t you fill up the ink rack for me, huh?” Eli supplies, face obviously torn.

“Sure thing,” Prompto says gratefully, forcibly having to stop himself from running to the back room to gather the inks.

He gives himself a moment in the storage room, selecting inks at random, and giving himself some space to just breath.

Prompto filled the inks that morning so there's literally nothing for him to do but he stand in front of it, moving things around with his back towards the other two as they get back to the tattoo.

Eventually he can’t fake it any more so he forces himself to deliver bottles of water to the station and offer to grab food if they want it. They say no, Gladio looking so guilty Prompto’s insides squirm, forcing a retreat to the front desk with his sketchbook. If Eli wants him back, he’ll ask and Prompto will go but he doesn’t and Prompto spends the next hour or so in relative silence only answering direct questions.

It’s the first time he’s not wrapped Gladio’s tattoo and as he watches the other two talk quietly as Eli attaches tape Prompto adds a touch of forlornness to his swirling pit of emotions.

He’s still shaken though, and its a while before he puts his finger on why.

He doesn’t want Gladio to know.

Gladio seems to think he’s an innocent thing - adorable he calls him.

Prompto doesn’t want him to know - and Gladio must _not_ know, somehow - because he doesn’t want to taint Gladio’s opinion of him. Gladio makes him feel something, a particular way he’s never quite felt before and Prompto doesn’t want it to change.

Prompto feels hopelessly confused. Brain trying to process two different bits of information as fact simultaneously.

Prompto packs up his stuff as they approach and cashes out the register, avoiding Gladio’s gaze, as Eli takes his card payment. He carries it into the office and Eli passes him the key to double lock it as soon as he’s back in the main room.

Prompto had half expected Gladio to leave but he’s waiting, in a worn hoody and fiddling with his car keys.

If he were anyone else Prompto might think he was nervous.

“You need a ride home, Freckles?” Eli asks once he’s locked the front door, hunching against the rain outside. Eli glances at Gladio over Prompto’s shoulder, looking concerned.

“No thanks,” he says quietly.

Prompto can handle this, he can just say goodbye to Gladio and walk home. He just needs to sleep on it, he’ll feel better in the morning and then he can move on, apologise to Gladio for being so weird and -

But he _can’t_ face talking to him at all, he realises, jittery and anxious to the point of nausea at the very thought.

He’s really going to have to apologise to Gladio tomorrow, Prompto thinks, as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts to head off in the direction of home -

Prompto’s fucking everything up. He’s such a mess. It’s not fair that he’s -

“Hey,” Gladio says urgently, hand grabbing the top of his arm to stop him.

Somehow the touch burns even through his jacket and he tugs himself free but gives Gladio the respect he deserves and turns to look at him.

“Let me drive you home,” Gladio urges him.

He can’t possibly think -

“No,” Prompto snaps angrily. Gladio can’t think that Prompto’s going to put out _now_ , after the way he’s been behaving.

“Not for _that_ ,” Gladio says quickly, “Just literally let me drive you home.”

“No thanks,” Prompto responds, being trapped inside a car with Gladio sounds like hell right now, “I’m gonna walk.”

“Freckles, c’mon, its raining,” Gladio cajoles him, “It’s _dark_. You shouldn’t walk by yourself.”

It’s the first time he’s ever not been convinced by Gladio’s charm. Prompto can’t help but see some of the sense in what he says though.

“Fine,” Prompto says sighing, “I’ll take the bus.”

Gladio’s face flickers through what looks like half a dozen emotions but Prompto ignores them and starts to walk towards the bus stop.

Gladio follows, “Prom. That’s silly, I can just drive you.”

Prompto senses the hand reaching for him again and dodges away from it, turning back to face Gladio as his frustration and anger bubbles up to breaking point.

“I said _no_ , Gladio,” Prompto says firmly, voice unsteady but sharp, “I know that’s not a word you’re used to hearing but I’m sure you know what it means.”

Prompto might as well have slapped him, he thinks, judging by the way Gladio recoils slightly, his expression turning bleak. Prompto shivers, cold from the rain and something inside him.

“Text me when you get home. _Please,_ ” Gladio begs.

Prompto thinks he can manage that, even if he can’t find it in himself to speak. So he nods, throat tight and eyes burning.

Gladio’s car doesn’t drive past where he's huddled in the bus stop for several minutes.

-

Prompto strips as soon as he gets inside, towelling off his hair and pulling on his pyjamas so he can curl up in bed.

He’s hungry, stomach aching with it, but he knows he won’t be able to eat. In the dim light of his lamp he thumbs out a perfunctory text to Gladio.

[Prompto 21:17] i’m home

It makes him feel better _and_ worse when Gladio responds straight away.

[Gladio 21:18] I’m glad. Sleep well <3

\- - -

Prompto struggles through his first class the next day and wonders if it’s an omen of what’s to come for his whole week.

“You look wrecked,” Noct says to him, later in the day, popping into the library to see Prompto after his final class.

“Didn’t sleep well,” Prompto says simply.

Noct makes a face and then something in Prompto’s makes him pause.

“Weren't you with Gladio?” Noct asks tentatively.

“No,” Prompto says shortly, then gentler, “I was too tired.”

If he tells Noct what really happened he’ll probably go off on Gladio again, and despite everything, Prompto’s not really mad at him.

Whether Gladio knows about his tattoo or not he wasn’t trying to _hurt_ Prompto. That much he’d realised.

Prompto’s mostly embarrassed and ashamed to have reacted that way, set off, in all likelihood, by the triple whammy of what Fi said, coming clean to Eli and then what was essentially a throw away comment from Gladio.

It was just _too much_.

Prompto sometimes crumbles under the lightest pressures so in hindsight he’s not surprised.

Noct hums, “You wanna come over later?”

Prompto shakes his head, “Got too much to do.”

“We can just study,” Noct offers.

“I need all my art stuff,” Prompto explains, “But you can come over to me if you think my shitty couch won’t break your back.”

“Dude,” Noct says excitedly, “At yours we can order the really good take-out Iggy won’t normally let us have.”

Prompto laughs, “You’re on.”

Noct sits down to send off a text - probably apprising Ignis of his plans - and Prompto taps his pen nervously against the table.

“Noct?” Prompto asks when it looks like he’s done.

“What’s up?”

“You know my background check - do you know if Gladio ever read it?”

If Noct is shocked by the question he doesn’t show it. His answer, however, does nothing to make Prompto feel better.

“I have no idea,” Noct says.

“Did you?” Prompto asks, though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

“Of course not,” Noct stresses, “Just Iggy and the Marshal I think.”

“So you don’t know what's in it?” Prompto tries. He scratches under his wristband and Noct’s eyes track the movement.

“I don’t know if Iggy knows,” Noct admits, “But he wouldn’t care. Neither would Gladio for that matter.”

“Wouldn’t it have been in there though,” Prompto muses, “That’s a security risk right? Trained soldier.”

“Imprisoned child,” Noct corrects, “So no. And they might _not_ have told him if they didn’t think it was necessary.”

“Huh,” Prompto says.

Maybe Ignis _doesn’t_ know.

-

[Noct 17:44] omw with spicy ribs and shit

[Prompto 17:45] i’ll eat the ribs but the shit you can keep for yourself

[Noct 17:46] oh ha ha

[Noct 17:47] so i talked to iggy.

[Noct 17:47] and with master skills i managed to reveal nothing but find out that gladio didn’t read your background check

[Noct 17:48] said he’d trust iggys judgement

[Prompto 17:49] oh, thats cool

[Prompto 17:50] thanks for your detective work (人◕ω◕)(◕‿◕✿)

[Prompto 17:50] you didn’t need to but i appreciate it

[Noct 17:51] np. i couldn’t work out a way to find out what he knows without giving anything away but ill work on it

-

Noct gets picked up at ten and suddenly left alone with his thoughts Prompto paces the length of his tiny apartment a dozen times before coming to a conclusion.

He misses Gladio.

And not just in a physical way. He misses _talking_ to Gladio.

It’s worrisome and potentially problematic but Prompto can’t help it and he can’t deny it.

Gladio’s not messaged him at all and Prompto could use this break as an excuse to distance himself from the relationship before anything else happens but instead he pulls up the images he’s avoided sending Gladio before because they’re straight up porn and drops them into their text thread.

[Prompto 22:21] [Image SG_5.jpg]

[Prompto 22:21] [Image SG_7.jpg]

[Prompto 22:21] sorry. i was a jerk yesterday

[Prompto 22:22] please accept these smutty drawings as an apology

Prompto expects to wait, maybe even until tomorrow but it vibrates with a message almost immediately. He’s nervous as he opens it, knowing it _could_ just be Gladio telling him to fuck off.

[Gladio 22:23] Don’t be sorry. *I’m* sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.

Prompto’s heart races, pleased and exhilarated and relieved. Gladio doesn’t hate him, all is not lost.

He’s careful with his response.

Prompto wants to offer a reason without exposing the things he’d like to keep hidden and he _thinks_ he hits on a decent balance. Gladio doesn’t question it, so Prompto chalks it up a win.

[Prompto 22:24] you didn’t know it would. i don’t like talking about tattoos and me

[Prompto 22:24] i know thats weird and i’m sorry

[Prompto 22:25] but you didn’t know so i shouldn't have gotten mad at you

[Gladio 22:25] Don’t be sorry. You’re right. I didn’t know it was a boundary. Now I do, it won’t happen again.

[Gladio 22:26] I promise. I never want to upset you again.

The words are exactly what he wanted to see but they tread to close to the border of something they can never be together. Prompto knows this, he’s fine with it, he can _be_ fine with it but he can’t let them linger here for too long.

He steers them back in the right direction.

[Prompto 22:28] you haven’t said if you like my drawings or not?

[Prompto 22:28] i was thinking of you when i drew them

[Gladio 22:31] I love them. You’re amazing. If your other plans fall through I 100% support your decision to go into smutty graphic novels.

[Gladio 22:31] I’ll be your biggest fan.

[Prompto 22:32] and i’d be willing to get covered in hay if you’d finally bend me over something

It’s bait, big fat obvious bait to focus back on the sex, the enticing chemistry that swells between them whenever their alone.

Gladio latches onto it and Prompto follows him on to easier topics.

\- - -

Prompto’s schedule turns to utter hell again out of nowhere. It rains the whole time too, so he’s cooped up _and_ stressed with a sprinkling of exhaustion and anxiety about school and money with no way to do anything about it.

Every tentative meet up with Gladio gets cancelled for one reason or another and the weather turns so miserable Prompto can’t even go for his runs, not having the gear to keep him dry but not overheat when the water falling from the sky isn’t made of ice.

And then, Friday morning, he’s awoken by the sun streaming in through his half closed curtains and he rockets out of bed excitedly.

He runs the long way round. The _really_ long way round that takes him through some of the nicer parks and through streets that are filled with no one but fellow joggers and dog walkers.

Prompto’s music is pounding in his ears - probably too loud - as he cuts through one of his more familiar parks, notable for having a statue of someone that _isn’t_ a Lucis Caelum.

And then he spots Gladio.

It pulls him up so short his feet momentarily stop listening to him and he almost stumbles as he drops down to a fast walk.

“Good morning,” Prompto says happily, going up on to his tiptoes to kiss the edge of Gladio’s mouth before he can over think it.

You’re probably not supposed to kiss your fuck buddy when you run into them in public but Prompto’s happy to pretend he doesn’t know that.

“Hello you. I didn’t know you ran this far out,” Gladio says.

“Todays long run day,” Prompto says, probably not needing to explain how shitty the weather has been in the last week.

Prompto breathes deeply, willing his heart rate down a little. Something that is absolutely ruined when Gladio reaches up to tug at a lock of his hair. He knows he must look a state but Gladio’s looking at him like he might eat it him so maybe its not all bad.

“I’m putting you off your pace, huh?” Gladio teases.

“Maybe,” Prompto retorts, “Worth it though,” he admits.

“I’m glad,” Gladio says and he looks it, “Any chance I’ll get to see you soon? At Noct’s or otherwise?”

“Yes to both,” Prompto assures, “Noct’s tomorrow and then I was gonna invite you round on Monday, if you’re free. Sorry my schedules been so -” waves his hand.

“I can be free,” Gladio says.

Prompto beams and though he’d like to stay and chat he needs to get back home and get ready for school.

It's a relief, honestly, that Gladio's so obviously forgiven him. He'd worried things would be strange between them, but they seem to be right back to normal.

“Great,” Prompto says, “Now I gotta run - literally. See you, Big Guy.”

He jogs away before Gladio can respond, turning at the entrance on the park and blowing a kiss over his shoulder to where Gladio is still stood watching him go.

\- - -

“Presentations will be due next Thursday when we normally have our seminar, groups are posted on the board outside but I’ll email it to you.”

Most of the class groans aloud, Prompto’s not among them but he does die a little inside.

A short turn around. Group project. Presentation.

It’s all Prompto’s worst nightmares rolled in to one thing and worth fifteen percent of his grade.

-

It gets worse.

The group chat he gets added in to is a shit show. Everyone is apparently busy all the time and no one is willing to cancel plans or skip club meetings.

And then one by one the other five members of his group point out that they have nothing to do _tonight_.

So it’ll be Prompto that’s cancelling plans.

Begrudgingly he texts Gladio, bitter resentment for the rest of his group rising with every second.

Even if Gladio’s pretty sweet about it.

-

They get so little done it’s almost funny. Except its not funny, not at all.

The work gets divided at least, with an assurance from everyone to meet up next Wednesday at the latest. Prompto’s not sure he sees that happening but it’s honestly a relief just to get out of the library before midnight. He’ll just have to do the best he can on his part and hope the professor grades fairly.

It’s half eleven when Prompto gets in to bed, wide awake and frustrated, so tightly wound up its a smack in the face to realise that he’d had to cancel the perfect stress relief just so he could become this stressed.

He lies there for what feels like half an hour but when he checks his phone it turns out to have been about four minutes.

He needs _something._

Prompto rolls onto his back and reaches into his pyjama bottoms without any preamble, stroking along his length and imagining it’s _Gladio’s_ hands instead. It kind of works - he gets properly hard - but it feels shallow and fulfilling.

He glances at his phone, discarded on the pillow beside him. An idea comes to life in his mind, something he's never done before but -

He thinks Gladio will be _great_ at it.

He won’t know if he doesn’t try, right?

Prompto flicks on his side lamp and tugs off the ratty t-shirt he’d thrown on for bed. Reclining back he flips to front camera and angles it so his face isn’t visible but all his torso and the just of his hips is shown in full.

The lighting is _awful_ so Prompto deletes it as fast as he took it, reaching to flick on his fairy lights too.

 _There_. Much better, the second light throws all his angles into sharper relief and highlighting abs that he doesn’t _really_ have in the full light of day.

Prompto sends off a message to Gladio - perfectly innocent - and getting a response back immediately as per the norm for this time of night.

If Gladio minds that Prompto keeps him up until its technically tomorrow he doesn’t say anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Frantically googles synonyms for warm because Prompto can’t think of any other way to describe Gladio*  
> Eli still ships it but he’s not above lying to Gladio and pretending he doesn’t know what’s going on.  
> 


	5. Scheduling Conflicts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Communication. Who needs it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I wanted to update this once a week - and I do - but I’m working on two fics right now and I’m sure you know what I’m like by now: to upload both of them once a week I have to write and edit 20-30 thousand words a week and I was managing it fine at first but it’s finally got to me. So I’m just writing as fast as I can without stressing myself out and hoping its not an unreasonable time between uploads. Sorry for making you wait and thank you for being patient with me <3
> 
> On the plus side though, I only have two chapters left of that other fic to go and then I can devote myself to this full time. Also. These bits that I’ve written before and have to re-write now are actually somehow harder to write that the new new stuff so when I get into the bits of the story that haven’t been seen before I’ll be having a better time and write more. I’m just waiting for Rosie day and the chocobo roadtrip, I have so many plans.

[Noct 00:11] dude you awake?

[Prompto 00:12] can you say the hundred year solheim oppression of free art?

[Noct 00:12] (^ц^ )

[Noct 00:13] sounds fun

[Prompto 00:13] whats up?

[Noct 00:14] nothing much. just bored. can’t sleep. didnt see you today

[Noct 00:14] how was your not-date with gladio yesterday?

[Prompto 00:15] had to cancel because of this dumb group project

[Noct 00:16] how did THAT go?

[Prompto 00:17] praying for a C

\- - -

Prompto rubs at his eyes, dry and itchy beneath his contacts - he _should_ swap them out for his glasses but he is absolutely not the kind of proper adult that remembers to carry them around with him all the time.

“You know when you think your essay is probably good but also you’re so tired maybe you’re misspelling _the_?”

Noctis snorts, “Yeah?”

“That’s me now, forever.”

“Let me read through it for you,” Ignis offers, setting aside the cookbook he was perusing and holding his hands out for Prompto’s laptop.

“For real?” Prompto asks in wonder.

Ignis looks at him pointedly and makes a _gimme_ motion with his hands.

“You’re the best most kindest person I’ve ever met,” Prompto says as he yanks his power cord out so he can pass the computer across. It holds a shitty charge but experience tells him Ignis is a quick reader.

“I certainly hope your grammar is better in this at least,” Ignis teases.

Prompto laughs, “I make no promises.”

Prompto raises his arms and twists his back so it clicks audibly, letting out a short noise of satisfaction.

“That sounded _awful_ ,” Ignis comments idly without looking up.

“I think it means I’m getting old,” Prompto muses.

Noct rolls his eyes, “It means your mattress _sucks_.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Prompto says defensively though he’s not sure why. It _is_ kind of a shitty mattress, “It’s got like eight kids through college and it’ll do me too.”

“I beg your pardon,” Ignis says looking at Prompto in obvious shock, “How many?”

“I don’t actually know,” Prompto admits, “But the guy that checks up on the apartments says they keep them for a long time. Like, ten years. Until they’re not usable anymore.”

“Please tell me you bought a high quality mattress topper?” Ignis demands.

“I bought _a_ mattress topper,” Prompto says. High quality, however, it is not. He’d spent just enough money so it doesn’t make a crinkly plastic noise whenever he gets into bed but not enough that it actually has any effect on the quality of the mattress.

Ignis blinks, glances at Noctis and then back to Prompto.

“I see,” Ignis says. And he goes back to Prompto’s essay.

“Why do I feel like Ignis is really disappointed in me?” Prompto asks Noct.

“Welcome to my world,” the prince mutters.

-

[Gladio 21:37] Why isn’t it Sunday yet?

[Prompto 21:40] because we hold to an archaic seven day calendar week designed only to keep us apart

[Gladio 21:41] Did you have fun at Noct’s earlier?

[Prompto 21:42] it was okay. missing a particular brand of eye candy i enjoy though

[Gladio 21:43] Sorry Freckles. Family dinners and all that.

[Gladio 21:44] Make it up to you on Sunday.

Prompto’s already in bed, laying about in his underwear because he’s about a week behind on his laundry. He’s flat on his belly sketching while a _Moogleflix_ runs an averagely interesting true crime documentary in the background.

He switches to his camera and points it down the line of his back, arching his hips to highlight the curve of his ass.

[Prompto 21:47] [Image 10044.jpg]

[Prompto 21:47] promise?

[Gladio 21:48] Just wait until I get my hands on you, you little tease. So gorgeous.

\- - -

Prompto’s always pretty tense when there’s a knock on his door he wasn’t expecting. It's rarely a good thing.

Noct always lets him know before hand when he’s coming over and he doesn’t really think it’s in Gladio’s nature to just _turn up_. Not, Prompto thinks, he’d turn him away right now if he did.

Prompto wishes there was a window in his door, or a peep hole, so he had some indication if he was about to encounter a salesman or an angry neighbour. Prompto pulls it open a crack, relieved if not a little confused that it’s Ignis on the other side.

“Hey,” Prompto says, pulling his door wider open and peering round to see if anyone else is with him.

“Just me, I’m afraid,” Ignis says, “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“I’m not disappointed,” Prompto rushes to assure him, waving him into the apartment, “Just surprised.”

Ignis smiles and follows him inside, a bulky shopping back in one hand, toeing out of his shoes by the front door.

“Do you want some tea?” Prompto offers. He’d bought himself an actual teapot a few days ago, grabbed for a steal from a thrift store while trying to root out an easel - again. It’s plain blue and chip free, from what Prompto could see, the inside remarkably unstained.

“That sounds lovely,” Ignis says and Prompto reaches for his kettle.

When he turns back around Ignis is over by his bed, pulling away his duvet and folding it so he can set it on the couch.

“Uh, Ignis?” Prompto says _really_ pleased he changed the covers yesterday.

“Hmm?” Ignis murmurs, now gathering his pillows.

“What are you doing?” Prompto asks, edging carefully out of his kitchen.

“Don’t fret, I’ll put everything back where I found it,” Ignis explains.

“I mean - I’m not super worried about _that_ ,” Prompto says, “Just what exactly are you doing?”

Ignis tugs the sheet free and places it on the couch with the other things.

“I acquired another mattress topper for you,” Ignis says like it’s nothing.

“ _Iggy_ ,” Prompto whines, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I think we’ll both sleep easier knowing I have,” Ignis says confidently.

Prompto makes an embarrassed noise and Ignis laughs.

“I’ll tell Noct,” Prompto threatens.

Ignis turns to look at him simply so Prompto can _see_ him roll his eyes, “He already knows I’m here.”

Ignis bundles up his current mattress cover and tosses it to the floor as though it’s destined for the trash and surveys the mattress. It’s pretty clean, Prompto thinks, at least what he can see with _eyes_. The problem is, of course, that the springs and the padding are in less than stellar condition.

“That’s not _awful_ ,” Ignis concedes.

“See,” Prompto says, “It’s fine. So you can just, y’know, return whatever you bought and get your money back.”

Prompto _would_ offer to just buy it if he thought for even a second Ignis would have bought something within his budget.

“Nice try,” Ignis says blandly.

“Let me help at least,” Prompto offers weakly.

“Making the tea would be helpful,” Ignis remarks just as the kettle comes to a boil.

-

Prompto settles into what feels like a new bed that night. The topper is thick and firm - yet still soft - supporting his body as he lays down.

He rolls onto his back and grabs his phone from where it’s charging.

[Prompto 23:09] you were right

[Iggy 23:11] Such is life. It’s comfortable?

[Prompto 23:12] amazing. come round for tea whenever you like.

[Iggy 23:13] Sweet dreams, Prompto.

\- - -

“You’re good at this,” Eli says as Prompto swings the chair around to grab the image waiting for them on the printer.

“Huh?”

“This computer stuff, I still can’t get my head around it. But you just resized that text for me in seconds when I might have spend an hour doing it by hand,” Eli explains.

Prompto shrugs, “It’s just the way I learnt. I probably couldn’t do properly it by hand.”

“You should practice that,” Eli says, taking the paper so he can quickly trace the image onto a stencil, “While I do this tattoo, practice resizing by hand. You should know _how_ to do it even if you probably won’t ever have to.”

“Sure,” Prompto says, nodding eagerly, “Anything in particular?”

“Do something with text and then just size anything you like from the catalogue up _and_ down by half,” Eli suggests. He stands and trims the edge of the stencil before squaring his shoulders and making his way over to his first of three clients booked in for the rest of the day.

This one is fine, she’s a sweet girl, getting her first tattoo not long after her eighteenth birthday, but she’s bought what must be her entire friendship group with her for emotional support and their near constant laughter is already grating on him.

Prompto grabs out the original piece from this morning and carefully draws a smaller box underneath before getting to work.

-

Prompto would laugh at Eli’s grim expression if he thought he would survive it.

“It’s almost like,” Eli mutters, reaching for one of the skin-safe pens on the desk, “That in seventeen years tattoo experience I’ve never tattooed a cluster of stars onto a hip before.”

Prompto snorts, trying to keep it low so the client can’t hear him, “What’s wrong this time?” he asks low.

“Nothing,” Eli says, “They’d just like to see it another way.”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “Useful feedback that you can use to make changes.”

“I hate to steal your line, Freckles, but I can’t wait for Gladio to get here.”

“Hey!” Prompto squawks, “Shut up.”

Eli laughs as he walks away.

-

Eventually the customer settles on an arrangement of stars - identical to the original stencil - and Eli finishes his works just minutes before Gladio’s supposed to arrive.

“Wanna do me a favour, Kid?” Eli asks and his stomach prevents him actually having to finish his request by rumbling loudly.

It should have been a quiet day, Eli should have had plenty of time to break for food before Gladio’s arrival but the additional work on Eli’s last client and a tricky customer wanting a walk in a five pm on a sunday and refusing to take no for an answer…

And here they are, Eli starving and just a touch frustrated on a day he normally enjoys.

“Mercutio’s?” Prompto offers.

“Yes,” Eli sighs gratefully, “Meat and carbs.”

Prompto’s in line behind a couple of _young professionals_ before he realises that Gladio’s going to have arrived for his appointment _and_ he and Prompto have one of their _not-dates_ scheduled with Prompto seemingly mising from the store.

While the people two ahead of him in line order he pulls out his phone.

[Promptos 18:03] I HAVEN’T BAILED ON YOU

[Prompto 18:03] eli sent me to grab him some food and coffee i’ll be right back

[Prompto 18:04] you want me to grab you something for later? or now? going to mercutios and the coffee place.

[Gladio 18:05] Coffee please. I thought I’d take you for some food after though, if that’s okay?

Prompto frowns down at the screen.

What is Gladio _doing_? This isn’t how casual works, not in Prompto’s mind. The texting he can handle, the hanging out when Noct and Iggy are there too, that’s all easy to separate from the sex but Prompto doesn’t understand how they’re supposed to go out for dinner and still keep the sex _casual_. Prompto doesn’t think he has it in him.

Prompto _could_ bring this up with Gladio, talk it out and make sure Gladio knows why this makes him uncomfortable.

But it's easier is to just side step the conversation completely.

[Prompto 18:06] i’ll grab us something to take back to mine

[Gladio 18:06] So impatient.

Prompto grins at his phone.

[Prompto 18:07] you have NO idea

Prompto orders Eli and Gladio the same garula-cheese-mustard-mayo thing he’s seen them both eat before - large, obviously - and gets himself a spicy daggerquill sub with regular salted chips for everyone. While he’s waiting near the register for it to be bagged up he spies the cake cabinet and uses his own money to buy a little treat for everyone.

“Thank the Astrals,” Eli says as soon as Prompto is walking back through the doors to Insomnia Ink with his bag of food and tray of coffees.

“Please give this man something to eat,” Gladio calls jokingly, straightening up as Eli hooks his tattoo needle into the stand and moves towards Prompto.

Laughing, Prompto throws Gladio a smile and a quick wave before placing the food on the front counter and roots out Eli’s share from the bag.

“What’s the rest of that?” Eli asks, nodding at the bag as Prompto folds the top back over.

“Stuff for me and Gladio to eat later,” Prompto tells him. And then realises what’s he’s done.

Eli’s grin is terrifying. Satisfied _and_ smug all at once.

“Don’t _even_ ,” Prompto begs.

“Entertain Gladio for me while I eat, huh, Kid?” Eli says, pitching his voice louder than necessary.

Prompto rolls his eyes, “I shoulda spat in your coffee,” he says but he hands it over. Prompto grabs the other two cups as he walks to Gladio, gloriously bronzed and shirtless as always, leaning forward like he’s waiting for him.

“You want your food now?” Prompto asks handing Gladio his coffee and letting their fingers linger against one another for an extra second.

“Later,” Gladio says, “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Prompto blushes, “You’ve looked at me _plenty_ this week.”

Prompto doesn’t know how he got so bold. So confident. But the outpouring of praise and compliments he gets from Gladio whenever he sends a certain kind of picture makes him feel a specific way he’s never really experienced before.

 _Beautiful_. Desirable.

“Not the same,” Gladio argues.

Prompto agrees, even if their sexting session from Monday has seen him quite happily through the week.

“How’s your arm?” Prompto asks, admiring the work Eli’s already done today, Gladio’s skin a little inflamed around the new ink.

“Same as always,” Gladio says.

Prompto sighs, “I should have told Eli to stay away from your biceps,” he muses making a grabby hand gesture at Gladio.

“Plenty of me to hold on to,” Gladio says on a chuckle, dropping Prompto a wink that makes Prompto feel hot around his ears.

“You can say that again,” Prompto mumbles, taking a large sip of his latte.

-

Gladio pins Prompto up against the side of his car before either of them can get inside it.

His mouth is warm and fervent, hand secure against Prompto’s jaw to keeps his face steady. He pecks Prompto twice quickly as he pulls away.

“You sure you’re not too busy?” Gladio checks.

“Mhm,” Prompto confirms, nuzzling Gladio’s jaw, feeling the scratch of his beard against his cheeks.

Gladio swats playfully at his butt, a light tap Prompto barely feels, “Get in the car then.”

-

Gladio grabs the bag of food as they get out of the car, holding it in one hand and pressing the other one up against the small of Prompto’s back as he gets his front door open.

Once inside Prompto grabs the bag back and hurries off to the kitchen to stuff the whole thing in his kitchen, nerves on fire from the gentle touches. He hops up onto his kitchen counter while he waits for Gladio to kick off his shoes and hang his jacket on the hook by his door.

Gladio steps into the cradle of Prompto’s thighs without urging, his hands skimming across his legs soft and teasing, pressing his mouth to Prompto’s in an oddly chaste move. Prompto nibbles at Gladio’s lip, impatient as Gladio always says he is and Gladio opens up to him with a soft groan meeting each one of Prompto’s presses with his own.

“We should eat,” Gladio suggests.

Prompto kisses him again, trying to disperse the idea from Gladio’s mind.

He sneaks his fingers under Gladio’s t-shirt, tracing the waistband of his jeans.

“M’not hungry for food,” Prompto mumbles daring to reach for the buckle of Gladio’s belt.

Gladio chuckles into his mouth, reaching for Prompto’s clothes in turn and smoothing a hand up Prompto’s back, dragging his t-shirt with it until it’s wedged under his armpits. Prompto makes Gladio wait until his belt buckle is undone before raising his arms up and letting the fabric be torn away from his body. Prompto slips his hand beneath the loosened waist of Gladio’s pants and palms at his firm backside.

It’s distracting enough that he doesn’t even realise Gladio’s stripping him bare until he’s lifting his hips absently to have his underwear pulled down and gasping when his bare skin hits the cold countertop.

Gladio chafes his hands up Prompto’s thighs and then steps free of Prompto’s wandering hands. Prompto would complain but Gladio ducks down, just briefly to mouth at Prompto’s cock where it’s sitting firm and hard against his abdomen. When Gladio straightens up again he lifts Prompto bodily off the counter. Prompto squeaks and if he wasn't hard already he certainly would be now.

Gladio only has to take a few steps to get them by the sofa and he lowers Prompto to the ground beside it, his mouth working firmly against Prompto’s throat, teeth and lips working his skin until Prompto can feel the colour blossoming on his pale skin. Prompto wants to return the favour, to feel more of him, but it’s hard to do anything but pant and gasp into the quiet of his apartment, succumbing to the glorious feel of Gladio’s hands and mouth on him again at long last.

But Gladio makes no effort to move things along, content just to squeeze Prompto’s ass rather than attempt to work any part of himself inside it so Prompto raises his own hand to his mouth, using the saliva pooled there to slick up his fingers. As soon as his fingers pop free Gladio pulls his face from Prompto’s neck staring at him with such raw _heat_ that Prompto slowly takes them back into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue in a tease.

Prompto reaches behind himself, rubs a wet finger against his hole to slick it up before starting to slide it inside.

Gladio all but growls, “Where’s your lube?”

“Bedside draw,” Prompto breathes.

Gladio gives him a lingering kiss as he moves away and Prompto turns himself, bending straight over the arm of his couch so he can get a better angle to split himself open. There’s some rustling behind him and then a couple condoms land just in front of him followed shortly by the heavy sound of denim hitting the ground.

Prompto works a finger deeper, moving it around a little to start opening himself up and behind him Gladio mutters a rough, “Fuck.”

When Gladio first walks past him he’s down to his boxers and by the time he’s grabbed the lube from Prompto’s drawer he’s butt naked and stroking his impressive cock with slow steady movements. Gladio’s back at his side - or back, as it were - so fast that Prompto’s barely progressed any further, still just one finger deep. Gladio steps up flush against him, strong thighs up against his ass and his dick spreading his cheeks apart and nudging at his fingers like he wants them out of the way making Prompto groan at the added pressure.

Part of him expects Gladio to just drizzles some lube over his hole and then sit back and watch as Prompto gets himself ready but he doesn’t know _why_ he expects that, not after how attentive he’s been before and all the words he’d typed to Prompto at the start of the week.

Prompto’s skin feels cold when Gladio takes half a step back but then slick fingers are touching his rim and it’s _worth_ it.

“My turn,” Gladio tells him and a series of warm kisses run up his spine. Obediently Prompto slips his hand free.

Prompto waits, hands gripping at the couch cushions instead, condom secure in his palm so he’ll know where it is when the time comes, oddly tense as he waits for Gladio to breach him.

He moans, high and breathless as Gladio slides his first finger inside, slick and warm.

Gladio lets him adjusts, probably easily sensing how much wider his fingers are than Prompto’s before slowly withdrawing and coming back in with a second, edging just the tips in first to gently pull him wider before sliding them inside.

Prompto’s hips jerk when Gladio passes the knuckle feeling incredibly full already. Probably, Prompto acknowledges, because it’s been a _while_ since there was something inside him that’s not his own fingers or cold plastic. And it’s _Gladio_ , with those hands that he’s had innumerable fantasies about. Strong and rough and just so _big_.

Gladio makes a soothing sound and pats his hip with his dry hand.

“You need me to slow down?” Gladio offers kindly. That hand runs up the length of Prompto’s spine, fingers trailing gently and then spanning the width of his waist.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Prompto begs, distraught at the though, babbling mindlessly, “It’s just - your hands - fuck, Gladio. _Please_.”

Gladio chuckles, a dark thrilling sound, “Mmm, you really _do_ like my hands, huh?” Prompto might be imagining it but he’s pretty sure he feels Gladio’s cock twitch against his thigh.

Gladio twists his fingers, pads just shy of the magic place inside him and Prompto buries his face into the pillows.

“Fuck. _More,_ ” Prompto begs.

But instead of more Gladio pulls _back_ and Prompto left open and waiting for a few moments that stretch out into an eternity. Gladio comes back with two fingers again, pulling them apart a few times before pressing deep and searching inside him -

Gladio brushes against his prostate and Prompto keens, pushing back onto those fingers to feel it again and again, all but mindlessly rubbing his cock against the worn fabric of his couch.

“Please, please, please,” Prompto begs when Gladio doesn’t spread him any wider, doesn’t work another finger in or say _fuck it_ and just start to split him apart with his mammoth cock.

“A little more baby,” Gladio croons and Prompto’s brain almost short circuits at the pet name. Then it almost does it all over again when an extra finger _finally_ pushing inside him and a rumbling groan basically _purring_ from Gladio's throat as he works Prompto apart, “Then I’ll give you everything you want.”

Prompto tries to _take_ what he wants, rocking back onto Gladio’s fingers, fucking himself until Gladio gives in and takes his fingers away with a soft laugh.

“Alright, alright,” Gladio says bending over Prompto’s back and reaching for a condom. Prompto slams it into his hand and Gladio has to smother more laughter in Prompto’s shoulder, delighted - Prompto hopes - by his eagerness.

Prompto holds still while Gladio gets himself ready, almost sighing in relief when Gladio reaches for his ass, holding his cheeks apart -

Gladio breaches him agonisingly slowly, feeling thick and impossibly large despite the fact Prompto stretched almost loose from Gladio's prep. Prompto gasps, chokes on it and needs to hold onto something more concrete than couch cushions so he reaches back to hold himself open for Gladio’s dick as he slowly inches in and out.

Prompto muffles his cries in the cushions, biting down on fabric to try and keep himself in check as Gladio’s thighs come flush with his own.

It’s almost too much. Prompto’s never been _this_ full before, not ever. It’s glorious and wonderful. Perfect. Prompto doesn’t know how he can come back from this, back to his own fingers or a silly toy. Doesn’t know how anyone else could possibly compete.

“Fuck,” Prompto moans, word catching in the middle as Gladio grinds into him.

Gladio’s holding him by both hips Prompto realises when his fingers make little circles against his skin. Prompto clenches around the hardness inside him when Gladio presses a grounding kiss to the back of his neck, an unexpected sprinkle of affection.

Prompto cries out at the first real thrust, loses whatever tiny amount of control he had over his voice as Gladio starts to move in a steady rhythm of thrusts that Prompto returns readily, pushing back and edging the movements almost towards roughness. It’s intense and beautiful, scratching every itch Prompto’s ever had even _before_ Gladio adjusts his stance slightly so his movements rock incessantly against his prostate on every inward move and drag tortuously against it when he retreats once more.

They fuck for what could be minutes or hours, Prompto moaning with abandon every time they come together, the slap of their skin undercutting every cry.

Gladio’s suddenly gripping his hips tighter, pushing and pulling until Prompto’s legs are straighter underneath him and then Gladio’s hand, last remnants of lube still on his fingers, is grabbing Prompto’s dick, neglected until now to start stroking him.

Gladio strokes him efficiently, squeezing under Prompto’s head the way that makes him lose it every time, and the combined assault on his body has Prompto shattering in a wet gasping mess less than a minute later. Gladio’s thrusts turn almost frantic as Prompto goes boneless, barely able to rock against him.

Gladio folds himself over again, chest pressed against the length of Prompto’s spine and arms wrapping around Prompto’s torso to anchor their bodies together as he reaches his end with a rough groan into Prompto’s hair.

Prompto goes from feeling electrified to _safe_ in half a second, Gladio’s weight pressing down on him in what should feel oppressive but actually just feels _right_ , his strong arms an anchor that keeps his mind calm and helps his heart slow down. Gladio’s still inside him but Prompto just feels content and _happy_ as the Shield nuzzles at the sensitive spot behind his ear.

“Wow,” Gladio says, voice rough, “Astrals, you’re a fucking firework.”

Prompto laughs and pets across Gladio’s strong forearm, twisting his head around until they can kiss - zero finesse at the current angle just pure affection and warmth.

“ _Now_ I’m hungry,” Prompto admits, giggling to himself.

Gladio begins to extract himself, kissing down Prompto’s spine as he carefully pulls free before padding into Prompto’s bathroom to take care of the mess.

Prompto feels empty without him, cold without the blanket of a body over him. Water runs in the bathroom and he thinks how nice it would be to snuggle on the couch to watch a movie now, maybe curl up in his bed -

Gladio’s going to leave now. He has to, that’s the _point_.

But Prompto had bought him that sandwich and _friends_ eat together all the time, right?

Prompto moves to be lying on his back as Gladio comes back out of the bathroom, gloriously naked and so handsome it’s almost painful. He smiles at Prompto in a way that stirs something other than arousal in his gut.

Simultaneously hoping for more and denying that hope Prompto takes the towel Gladio passes him and asks, “Want to eat with me before you go?”

Gladio grins broader, “Pants optional?”

Prompto laughs so hard he wheezes, sitting himself up so he can wipe at his stomach.

“Dude, pants are _always_ optional with me,” Prompto assures him.

Sadly though Gladio does in fact reach for his pants pulling both his boxers and jeans on before going to retrieve the food from the fridge. Prompto dresses himself, tugging on a comfy pair of sweats rather than his confining jeans and then surveys the mess they just made of his couch. He wipes up the worst of it with the towel in his hand.

“I have no idea how to fix that,” Gladio admits, settling at the other end of the couch and unpacking the bag onto the coffee table.

Prompto frowns at it for a second before going to retrieve a spray bottle of fabric cleaner from beneath his sink - he and Noct had an accident with pizza sauce just last week so this isn’t even the most _obvious_ damage he’s done to this couch. Prompto sprays it liberally then goes to wash up quickly, settling - through absolutely no choice of his own of course - close to Gladio’s side and away from the wet spot.

“I feel like that’s one of those things Iggy would know how to fix but I don’t wanna know that he knows or admit that _I_ need to know so we’ll just never find out,” Prompto babbles. He feels oddly nervous as Gladio flicks on his _Moogleflix_ and selects a nature documentary with a bright _New Today!_ banner.

Gladio kisses the side of his head, smiling, and passes Prompto his sandwich.

“Knowing Nyx as well as I do I can one hundred percent say that you’re right,” Gladio says, opening his chips.

When they’re done with the food Prompto fetches drinks from his fridge and forks so they can eat their desserts.

“I got a Galahdian apple cake and a mint-chocolate brownie,” he tells Gladio, “Preference.”

“You bought it,” Gladio says quickly, “You choose.”

Prompto fixes Gladio with his best imposing glower. Gladio laughs.

“Mint-chocolate is actually my favourite,” Gladio admits and Prompto beams. For some reason he _likes_ knowing that about Gladio, something personal he would never have learnt had Gladio not told him himself.

Another episode starts while they’re eating the sweets - _Duscae at Dusk_ \- and Prompto settles up against Gladio’s side once the food is gone, not realising he’s done it until Gladio’s arm is over his shoulder, fingers gently playing with his hair.

Casual cuddling. Casual cuddling is _fine_ , the lines are still there. That’s something friends do. He and Noct throw arms around each other all the time. Granted they’re both always wearing shirts but being topless is just part of who Gladio _is_. Prompto’s certainly not going to _complain_ about it.

Prompto presses his cheek into Gladio’s shoulder, pleased to be able to use the hundlegs scuttling across the screen as an excuse to close his eyes and just pretend he’s in a slightly different world for a minute. A world where Gladio stays the night so he can kiss him _good morning_ and maybe walk him to campus holding his hand.

 _Stupid_ , he seethes at himself.

“You don’t like bugs?” Gladio teases, tickling his fingers across Prompto’s thigh like the legs of an insect. Prompto traps the hand against his legs so the fingers stop, whining playfully.

“I don’t mind the tiny ones,” Prompto half lies, “But when they stand as tall as I do: no thank you, sir.”

Gladio frees his hand, tickling at Prompto’s ribs instead until he’s breathless from laughter. When Gladio stops he keeps holding Prompto close, large hand resting on his hip and Prompto’s heart refuses to slow down for some reason.

When the episode ends Prompto grabs for the remote and hits pause. Gladio needs to actually leave before Prompto begs him to _stay_.

“See you later this week?” Gladio asks, moving to stand.

Prompto can’t tell if he’s forcing his own smile or not, “Text me.”

\- - -

[Prompto 13:11] dude. i went to buy some patches for my jacket today and the lady saw my wristband and pulled out a secret stash of ‘crown only’ stuff.

[Prompto 13:12] [Image 10057.jpg]

[Prompto 13:12] ‘it’s a beautiful day now watch some bastard fuck it up’

[Prompto 13:13] in case you couldn’t read that yourself

[Noct 13:13] ill give you anything you want if you actually put that on something

[Prompto 13:14] its not iron on and i don’t know how to sew

[Noct 13:15] fuck

-

[Ignis 13:18] Bring your patches and the things you want them attached to next time you have an evening free to spend at Noct’s.

[Ignis 13:19] Also anything that is already patched and I will reinforce the ‘adhesive’ with thread.

[Prompto 13:20] ＼（Ｔ∇Ｔ）／ thank you thank you thank you thank you

[Prompto 13:21] though i don’t know when that will be. so busy （´。｀)

[Ignis 13:22] Let me know if you need anything else to help ease your load.

[Prompto 13:23] thanks Iggy xx

[Ignis 13:24] I mean it. It’s no bother to cook extra food and drop it by.

-

[Prompto 13:26] iggy’s too nice and i don’t know how to deal with it

[Noct 13:27] real talk though let him bring you all the gross veggies i don’t want to eat

-

[Gladio 21:08] I feel honour bound to tell you that the third episode of that series is about chocobos.

[Prompto 21:10] (・о・)

[Prompto 21:10] is it the most magical thing you’ve ever seen?

[Gladio 21:11] I started it and then paused to grab a drink, wanna watch together?

[Prompto 21:13] sure!

Prompto _actually_ has to finish some technical drawings for class. A class he absolutely won’t be taking the advanced version of next semester because he definitely doesn’t want to be an engineer or an architect. He's sure that, eventually, he'll be thankful for the extra skills nonetheless.

But he can definitely pop it on in the back ground, leave Gladio waiting a minute or two between responses and manage to get his work done.

Prompto had been playing an _ambiance_ playlist of soothing study sounds but he switches over to his streaming service and gets the episode ready.

[Gladio 21:16] All set?

[Prompto 21:16] hitting play!

Prompto does just that and focuses down on his work as the opening panoramic shot plays and the calm accent of the narrator begins to talk.

Prompto’s phone vibrates and he makes himself count to sixty - measuring something on his paper and then adding the appropriate marks - before he picks it up to respond.

\- - -

Prompto’s fairly well rested for once. He’d gone to bed last night not long after the episode had finished, bidding Gladio a goodnight so he wasn’t tempted to stay up with him instead.

Honestly his new mattress topper is probably largely responsible. Prompto needs to think of something nice to do for Iggy to say a proper thank you.

Noct is not so well rested apparently.

Prompto sets his backpack down on the floor and then settles into his place on the bench seat. Carefully he lifts Noct’s hoody where it’s draped over his face, checking to see if he’s _actually_ fallen asleep on his folded arms. Again.

“M’awake,” Noct mumbles.

“Want me to grab coffee?” Prompto offers as Noct sits up, stretching his arms up and wide.

“I already had two,” Noct admits, “If I have another I’ll be ahead of Iggy and then I can’t rag on him for his coffee addiction with good conscience.”

“Trouble sleeping?”

Noct shakes his head, “I had to stay up reading a report on Niflheim trade ready for a council meeting tonight.”

“Sorry,” Prompto says reflexively.

“Why are you sorry?” Noct snorts.

“Whenever something from Niflheim gives you grief I feel guilty,” Prompto admits.

Noct yawns and bluntly states, “That’s dumb.”

Prompto laughs and playfully punches Noct in the arm but lets Noct settle himself back down on the table, clearly unable to resist the chance to rest. Prompto’s not good at being completely idle though so he tugs his phone from his pocket and falls back into texting Gladio after just a couple minutes pretending that wasn’t his plan all along.

[Prompto 11:10] i’m just saying i could definitely hide a chocobo in my apartment and no one would know

[Gladio 11:11] You’re delusional, babe. Chocobos are big and loud and kinda smelly. Your neighbours would work it out within minutes.

[Prompto 11:12] what do you mean smelly?

[Prompto 11:12] i feel personally attacked right now

[Gladio 11:13] The Citadel had some one when I was a kid but they sent them back to the farm when Noctis expressed zero interest in them.

[Gladio 11:14] Trust me, they’re beautiful but they need a tonne of space and they make a load of mess. Stinky mess.

Prompto literally gasps as he reads over the words twice, trying to make sense of this bombshell.

[Prompto 11:15] (◯Δ◯∥) (◣_◢)

[Prompto 11:15] that TRAITOR

[Prompto 11:16] excuse me i just need to give my best friend hell for a minute

Prompto plops his phone onto the table, ignoring it when it buzzes again and give the leg of Noct’s chair and firm shove with his foot.

“Whaa-” Noct mumbles as he’s jostled out of his doze, “The fuck, Prom?”

“You had chocobos!” Prompto nearly yells, jabbing Noct in the side when he doesn’t react as quickly as Prompto would like him to.

“What?” Noct blinks and gives his head a little shake.

“At the Citadel!”

Noct frowns at him, “When I was basically a _baby_. How do you even know that?”

“Gladio told me,” Prompto says quickly and he watches Noct’s frown deepen just a fraction, glancing at Prompto's phone. Noct opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly.

Eventually he asks, “Why are you made at me about that?”

“Because you didn’t like them and now they’re _gone_ ,” Prompto whines, “Think how easily I could have pet a chocobo if you had them at your Dad’s house. _Think_.”

Noct snorts, “Dad’s house?”

“You want me to not think of you as a prince these are the nonsense things you have to listen to me say,” Prompto says with an exceptional show of seriousness, “Now don’t change the subject, Noct. You’re indifference has prevented me from meeting my true loves.”

Noct sighs, “I’m very sorry for this major turmoil I caused in our friendship fourteen years before the fact.”

Prompto laughs. His phone goes off again and Noct glances at it. Prompto pointedly _does_ not.

“I’ll try and forgive you,” Prompto assures Noct.

“Can maybe make it up to you,” Noct muses, “If we can get out of the city this summer.”

“What do you mean?” Prompto asks keeping his voice calm even as his body burns with excitement.

Out of the city - Prompto’s only imagined. Insomnia is amazing and Prompto wouldn’t want to live anywhere else but those hours he spent on a bus from Galdin, face pressed against the window to take in all the vibrant green landscape that gave way to dust and rocks have been burnt into his mind for hours of introspection.

“I’ve been camping outside the city with Gladio and Iggy a couple times,” Noct explains, “We could make a whole trip of it, spend a couple days at the Chocobo ranch in Duscae.”

“Shut up.”

Noct laughs, “My security will have to sign off on it but that’s like seventy-five percent Gladio’s call so I’m sure we can convince him.”

“Ask him,” Prompto begs, “Ask him please.”

Outside the city, Prompto thinks, where there are unending stars and mountains. Trees and flowers and animals and _everything_.

“You ask him,” Noct suggests and he breaks off to yawn again, “You probably have a better chance of convincing him than I do.”

Noct braces his arm on the table and rests his chin in his hand looking at Prompto in a way that is somehow both impassive and daring at the same time.

Prompto seizes his phone, skims the messages waiting for him and starts typing at once.

[Gladio 11:17] Try not to get me in trouble.

[Gladio 11:21] Prom?

[Gladio 11:28] Baby, come back.

[Gladio 11:30] Starting to worry you’re murdering him. Which, as you know, would make me suddenly unemployed so please don’t

[Prompto 11:31] he says we can all go to the chocobo ranch in the summer!

[Prompto 11:31] but you have to sign off on it

[Prompto 11:32] pretty pretty please gladio (人･∀･)(♥ω♥*)

[Gladio 11:33] Stop with the face, of course we can go.

Prompto grins, beams really, fidgeting in his seat happily as Noct smiles a smaller smile, not having to check what the reply had been.

[Prompto 11:34] （*＾3＾）

-

Curious, Prompto spent the time he batch cooks a few dinners that afternoon also watching videos on the internet. Wiz from his eponymous ranch has a large collection videos available for view where he details just what it takes to give his small flock of chocobos an amazing home.

It’s kind of, sort of, absolutely disgusting.

They're still cute though.

[Prompto 16:31] okay, fine, i’m convinced. no chocobo （；＿；）

[Gladio 16:32] There are tonnes better, more logical pets you can get.

[Prompto 16:33] tis all but a dream anyhow. super strict no pet policy in my apartment

[Gladio 16:34] Ah babe, that sucks, I’m sorry. Was just starting to picture you with some kind of rambunctious pup.

[Prompto 16:35] it would make my life complete

[Gladio 16:36] I’d love a dog actually, always wanted one. Something big enough for me to pet without breaking its spine.

[Prompto 16:37] you not allowed either?

[Gladio 16:38] No I am, I just don’t actually spend much time here so I don’t think it would be fair.

[Prompto 16:41] oh

[Gladio 16:41] Freckles?

Of course Gladio doesn’t spend much time at his apartment. Why would he need to?

Prompto can’t believe he’s been dumb enough to think Gladio’s just sitting around waiting whenever Prompto can’t meet up or has to cancel a hook-up. Gladio’s _incredible_ and he’s probably got a string of numbers in his phone - a list of equally gorgeous people just waiting to pick up every opportunity Prompto squanders.

He’s annoyed that he’s _hurt_ by the idea. Gladio doesn’t owe him anything, not any kind of loyalty that stops him from sleeping with anyone else as he pleases. Prompto shakes his head, checks on his curry sauce and pushes down his dumb feelings so he can respond.

[Prompto 16:44] hey if you do get one i promise to take it on all my morning runs with me

[Gladio 16:45] I’ll hold you to that.

\- - -

Prompto feels sick. An actual physical nausea that makes him think he might _actually_ upchuck all over his note cards.

[Prompto 14:21] i think i’m gonna be sick

[Prompto 14:21] or pass out

[Noct 14:22] youre not gonna do either of those things. youre gonna own this presentation and then iggys gonna drive us back to yours where well order whatever food you want and we can just take a few hours chill before the math cramming starts

[Noct 14:23] ill even let you beat me at kings knight

[Prompto 14:24] let me? there’s no letting me you little bitch

[Noct 14:25] wanna bet?

[Prompto 14:26] funny how you always forget the times i grind your party to dust but act like its skill when you roll good rng and steal a win

[Noct 14:27] now whos being a little bitch

“Argentum, Caine, Challis, Pickens, Stoneham and Tuld - you’re up.”

Prompto _hates_ that his name is first, like he’s somehow in charge but he _hates_ even more that his group had barely bungled through one test run of this presentation as a group this morning. Pickens had been late to that anyway, rolling in twenty minutes before they were due to finish in the library and acting like his grade meant nothing to him.

Maybe it does, Prompto thinks. Maybe his future won’t be put in jeopardy if someone here fucks up too badly in the next twenty minutes.

-

[Noct 15:01] me and iggy are by the front gate

[Noct 15:08] prom?

[Prompto 15:13] sorry. i’m on my way now

[Noct 15:15] you okay?

[Prompto 15:15] i’m fine

[Noct 15:16] prom. you might as well tell me now, you know iggy will sniff out whatever it is when you get here

[Prompto 15:17] i was sick

[Prompto 15:17] but least it was after the presentation and into a toilet rather than all over myself

[Noct 15:18] i take back the offer that well eat whatever you want if what you want is pizza

Prompto pulls open the car door and leans down to pout at Noct.

“Why not?”

“Dude, you know cheese makes you feel sick,” Noct points out.

“Hi Iggy,” Prompto says sliding into his seat and buckling his seat belt. He turns back to Noct, “Different kind of sick.”

Noct opens his mouth to argue but Ignis beats him to it, “You’ve been unwell?”

“Nerves got the better of me,” Prompto admits. Ignis frown but starts the engine to begin the drive back to Prompto’s.

“Perhaps I should come cook you something,” Ignis muses, “Kind to the stomach.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Prompto enthuses, undercut with Noct’s fervent, “Do _not_ cancel on Nyx.”

Ignis chuckles, “Well I can tell where I’m not wanted.”

“It’s not _that_ ,” Prompto promises, once again overlapped by Noctis, “Damn straight.”

“ _Noct_ ,” Prompto groans but both he and Ignis are laughing.

“Noctis _is_ right though,” Ignis says, “Give yourself a chance to recover. Limited dairy, please.”

Prompto starts to speak but Ignis rushes on, “Nothing too spicy from the Galahdian place either. Your mouth might be able to take it but your stomach won’t thank you.”

Prompto pouts again.

Noct leans towards him and fake whispers, “If we order from Portuttle Hut we can get that ice cream made from coconut cream.”

Prompto perks up.

“Bring a pint of the lemon ripple back for me, won’t you?” Ignis asks.

\- - -

“You sure you don’t mind?” Prompto asks Eli for whatever number of times it is now.

A lot.

“Kid,” Eli says, “Your boss is an ass-hole, I get it. _Trust me_ on that one.”

Prompto whines, “He’s supposed to give me forty-eight hours notice. But I can’t complain or maybe he’ll fire me.”

“Stop stressing please,” Eli teases, “You’re raising _my_ blood pressure.”

Prompto laughs, grateful and relieved.

“You let Gladio know you aren’t going to be here?”

“No,” Prompto admits. He’d toyed with the idea, written a message and deleted it again. But they’re not boyfriends and they hadn’t made any arrangements for today so it’d ultimately felt silly to tell him. Just a fanciful idea on Prompto’s part that Gladio would even _care_.

Just because _they_ don’t have any plans today doesn’t mean that Gladio doesn’t have any. With someone else.

“I’m gonna try and get that filing and stuff done before I go,” Prompto tells Eli, slipping into the back office.

Where he immediately loses track of time.

It’s gone two when he rushes back out to the main shop, already knowing he’s not going to have time to eat before his shift starts.

Prompto reaches for his bag and Eli glances up at the clock, rolling his eyes.

“See you later, Blondie,” Eli calls as Prompto bustles through the door.

Prompto pulls to a halt just shy of walking directly into Gladio.

“You’re leaving?” Gladio asks, and Prompto might be imagining it but he _sounds_ disappointed.

“I had to switch some shifts and stuff because of school,” Prompto tells him, half lying. He wants Noct to not find out about his boss this time, the anger on Prompto’s behalf is actually sort of intimidating, “I’m doing Wednesday afternoon to make up for it. But I’ll be here next week, promise.”

Gladio pouts, a genuinely adorable jut of his lip and Prompto glances behind him quickly to see if Eli is staring at them through the window - he’s not - before he steps up to kiss Gladio’s cheek apologetically.

“I wanted to take you home again,” Prompto breathes, “More than anything.” Gladio might have other options, sure, but maybe Prompto can keep him keen enough to come around as often as Prompto can manage.

Gladio sighs like the weight of the world just settled on his shoulders and Prompto grins.

“Starting to think you don’t like spending time with me,” Gladio teases.

“You know that’s not true,” Prompto promises, assuming Gladio _can’t_ have forgotten how enthusiastically Prompto responds to his touch, “Top three activities I swear.”

“I’ll take it, I guess,” Gladio grumbles.

“Beat out _Mario Kart_ and everything,” Prompto tells him.

“Think you can pencil me in this week?” Gladio asks, then insisting, “I _miss_ you.”

Prompto blinks.

That _can’t_ be true.

It’s not -

It’s not _fair_ for Gladio to say stuff like this when he probably doesn’t mean it the way it sounds. Gladio maybe misses his ass or his mouth but probably not the things he says or does beyond sex. That’s not what they are to each other.

A group of people start to walk past and the noise pulls Prompto from his reverie.

“I’ll try,” Prompto says dropping his voice so passers-by can’t hear him, “Depends if you think you’ll be satisfied by a ten minute romp in the back of your car or not.”

Gladio rolls his eyes and drops a kiss on the side of his head, “Go to work before you miss it and I don’t get a tattoo today.”

\- - -

Noct fidgets beside him.

Not a restless fidget but a _no matter how I move I’m uncomfortable_ fidget.

Prompto glances at Noct’s face as the prince tries to stay still long enough to note down the math problem the professor just wrote across the board taking note of the pained frown pinching his forehead.

“You okay? Prompto whispers.

Noct gaze flicks towards him and then back again, “Just ready to be done here.”

Prompto frowns too now, because that’s a _lie_ if he’s ever heard one.

“Noct…”

“Drop it,” Noct snaps.

The girls sitting ahead of them turn to glare at them over their shoulders and Noct attempts to sink lower in his seat but sits up again abruptly with a wince.

Prompto stays silent, worried and a little hurt by his tone.

A few minutes pass in which Prompto manages to get distracted by a tricky bit of long division and doesn’t notice the soft tearing sound from beside him until Noct is sliding half a sheet of paper over onto his desk.

 _I’m sorry_ it reads.

Prompto quickly scratches back _it’s okay :)_

Noct shoots him a grateful smile and Prompto dares to write _but you’re in pain_

Noct hesitates and then -

_a bit but its not so bad, I can manage_

Prompto frowns wondering how Noct is supposed to _manage_ chronic pain without any help.

 _Shouldn’t we call Iggy?_ Prompto writes, adding a few extra question marks for good measure.

Noct shakes his head, reaching for the paper. _He’ll worry for no good reason. I’ll be fine tomorrow. Promise :)_

Prompto drops it. For now.

-

They’re heading towards the library - both of them have an annoying gap between afternoon classes that’s not long enough to warrant going home but is also too long to spend just shooting the shit - when Prompto notices something odd about Noct’s gait beside him.

He drops back a little, pretending to be looking for something in his bag and it only takes Prompto one and a half seconds to clock what’s wrong. Abandoning his ruse he rushes forward, reaching for Noct’s arm like he can help.

“What are you doing?” Noct laughs.

“You’re limping,” Prompto says, “Let me -”

Noct’s face falls, “I’m _not_.”

“Noctis -”

“I’m not,” he insists, pulling away, “See.”

Noct takes a few steps away from him and he’s right, his gait is fine now, corrected so the steps are careful but like the same as his normal ones. There’s a bit of panic on his face though that Prompto can’t quite place, but he suspects it’s not because of the pain or the limp but something he, Prompto, is doing.

“Okay,” Prompto, “Okay, sorry. My mistake.”

Noct smiles, just a little, and waves him forward.

“Think you can quiz for my ethics class? I think we might have a pop quiz later.”

Prompto might not be able to fix Noct’s back for him or make him feel better about anything that’s going on but this he absolutely _can_ do. His own work he can handle later.

“You bet,” Prompto says, leading them away.

-

“You going home straight after class?” Prompto asks Noct as they pack up their bags.

Noct shakes his head, “Citadel. Gonna spend a little time with my Dad and then I’ve got training with Gladio.”

“Really?” Prompto asks, surprised and concerned.

“Dad wants to start having regular dinners but we’re having schedule issues. This is a good stop gap for now,” Noct explains absolutely missing the cause of Prompto’s surprise. Or, potentially, wilfully ignoring it.

Noct can’t _train_ with his back or his leg like this, surely? Gladio will notice and put a stop to it, right? Or will Noct continue to cover it up like he is now, hurting himself more just to save face.

“That’ll be nice,” Prompto manages to say, “Regular family time for you guys.”

“Hope it works out,” Noct mumbles.

“If it’s possible Iggy will manage it,” Prompto assures him.

They part ways for class and Prompto barely pays attention through the whole session. His teacher has a bad habit of assigning reading and then _only_ covering the information covered in that chapter during class. It’s handy because Prompto can sometimes work on other homework in the time - attendance in mandatory, obviously - but also it _sucks_ because there’s nothing else to occupy his mind but his worry for Noctis.

He can’t text Iggy, he knows that, because he’d probably come down here at once and pull Noct from class. Sure he’d do it in a non-obvious way that stops Noct from getting _too_ embarrassed but his best friend would still _hate_ it. Be mad at Prompto about it, when he found out.

Ignis is not, however, the only person looking out for Noct’s well-being that Prompto is in contact with.

It crosses a line. Both in his relationship with Gladio and Noct, but Prompto has to say something, has to at least _try_ and stop Noct from getting hurt again.

He’s still not entirely sure it’s the right decision but he pulls out his phone and texts Gladio.

-

[Iggy 18:20] Thank you for alerting Gladio to Noct’s condition today. He can be stubborn and I appreciate your intervention.

[Prompto 18:24] so i did the right thing?

[Iggy 18:25] Of course. Noct might not see it that way immediately but he’ll appreciate it soon enough. I promise.

[Prompto 18:26] thanks iggy

-

[Noct 20:53] i wanna be mad at you

[Prompto 21:54] but you’re not? *crosses fingers*

[Noct 21:55] nah.

[Noct 21:56] my physio gave me a massage and i feel brand new. thanks for caring.

[Prompto 21:57] yeah? you feel better?

[Noct 21:58] i feel like all my muscles are made of chewed up bubblegum but gladio says thats fine and ill feel better in the morning

[Noct 21:59] iggy might keep me back from school tho

[Prompto 22:00] ah I’m glad it worked. if you need me to get anything for you let me know!

[Noct 22:01] think you can come over after if i don’t get to come in? i might die of boredom if not

[Prompto 22:02] duh

\- - -

Prompto probably shouldn’t have spent the afternoon at Noct’s, not with his coursework piling up and work being unusually stressful now his boss has extended opening hours to midnight.

It doesn’t matter how hard he tries, there’s no feasible way to work in some time to see Gladio and with every day that passes he worries that their last time together was genuinely their _last_ time together.

[Gladio 12:30] Your schedule sucks.

[Prompto 12:31] tell me about it

[Prompto 12:31] i’m dying here

[Gladio 12:32] What about that 10 minute romp you mentioned?

[Prompto 12:33] i literally have 20mins spare before my evening seminar at 8 and that’s pretty much this week in a nutshell

[Prompto 12:34] don’t tempt me though, it takes all my self control not to call you over at 2am when i’m all strung out from studying.

[Gladio 12:35] I’ll be there.

[Prompto 12:36] later or at 2am? （＞ｙ＜）

[Gladio 12:37] Both.

Prompto doesn’t think anything of that, doesn’t get his hopes up over the comment, just assumes it was a throw away thing born of frustration.

-

[Gladio 19:31] I’m in west parking lot, under the big tree <3

Prompto stares at his phone genuinely dumbfounded.

There’s _no way_.

He drains the last of his coffee, tossing the cup into the nearest trash can and hurrying off to the parking lot. The west one is closest to the art buildings and he doesn’t know if Gladio _knows_ that or if it was just a lucky guess.

Prompto opens the door to Gladio’s car in a state of minor shock, he thinks.

“Holy shit. I was sure you were kidding, even after you let me know you were here,” he tells Gladio.

Gladio laughs and admits, “Well I’m glad you’re curious enough to come check anyway.”

Prompto all but stares ad Gladio, the strong line of his jaw obscured by a little more beard than normal and his eyes particularly golden coloured in the glow of the street lamp filtering through the trees. Gladio’s so out of his league, so ridiculously impressive in every way Prompto has no idea how he managed to worm his way into this care at this very moment.

“Hi,” Prompto murmurs softly.

“Hey yourself,” Gladio replies, pointing at a paper bag on the back seat, “I bought you some food, in case I was cutting into your dinner time.”

Between Noct and Iggy, Prompto’s pretty used to being taken care of nowadays yet somehow the gesture does _something_ to him. Instead of exploring that feeling he tosses Gladio a grin and tells him, “Ah, thanks Big Guy, I can take it into class with me. My professor’s chill like that.”

“Wanna say thanks properly?” Gladio teases, patting his thigh in invitation.

Now _that_ Prompto knows what to do with, eagerly climbing across the console so he’s sat on Gladio’s thighs, his own spread across the breadth of Gladio's lap and smoothing his palms over his impressive chest so he can brace himself to lean in for the first kiss.

Gladio holds his waist and cups his face, thumb tracing the edge of his mouth as they kiss oddly slow, learning again the press of each other’s lips and the glide of tongues.

Prompto pulls away to take a needed breath and sigh contentedly, “That’s better.”

Gladio’s chest rumbles with a laugh as he presses forward to kiss him again, hands digging into Prompto’s waist in a possessive squeeze that makes Prompto _whine_.

Prompto retaliates by groping across Gladio’s chest, hand trailing down over the definition of his abs. Wanting to tease and _feel_ he moves the hand down further to feel between Gladio’s thighs.

It’s with some shock and deep surge of _want_ that he feels Gladio half hard in his pants, dick starting to press against the seam.

Prompto’s done thorough with Gladio’s dick, worked his mouth wide around him and swallowed him down as deep as he can go. Prompto wonders how _fast_ he could get him off if he tried.

“I wish we had more time,” Prompto mutters, pressing messy kisses to Gladio’s neck as he considers their options. Gladio’s seat is probably as far back as it can go, but Prompto could lean over from the passenger side. There aren’t any other cars around and they’re sheltered by the tree, hidden by the evening sky.

“I don’t think we can both, but -” Prompto says, quickly checking the time just to be sure and deciding that _maybe_ , wondering if the edge of danger might even help, “I think I can get you off.” He passes his hand over the front of Gladio’s jeans again, rubbing in short little motions until Gladio grabs his wrist and pulls it away.

Gladio loops Prompto’s arm back over his shoulder and pulls them chest to chest, hip to hip to grind their arousals together.

“Both of us, or neither,” Gladio says firmly and it’s the least painful rejection Prompto’s ever gotten.

Which means he’s disappointed but not _mad_ when he sighs and asks, “Think about me later?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Gladio swears, kissing him again and so deeply Prompto’s toes curl inside his boots.

Gladio takes the opportunity to squeeze Prompto’s ass, thoroughly feeling the curve of it, digging fingertips into the top of his thighs as they make out like needy teenagers until the skin around Prompto’s mouth is red and irritated from the scruff of Gladio’s beard.

Prompto’s phone chimes softly, his five minute alert for classes to keep him on track when he gets distracted.

“Shit,” Prompto mumbles, scooting back on Gladio’s knees to get some space, “I’m gonna have to start my art in society lecture with a raging boner.”

“Sorry,” Gladio says, not sounding sorry at all. He presses his thumb to the corner of Prompto’s mouth, cupping his jaw.

“Worth it,” Prompto assures him.

Gladio tugs his upper body forward again to press one last kiss to his abused mouth.

“Be free soon,” he begs.

“I might actually combust if I can’t be,” Prompto laughs, only half joking.

He really _might_.

\- - -

Finally Prompto gets a reprieve. A few hours of magical free time that no one has any claim on but himself. Not Prompto’s classes, not his job, not Ignis’ brutal but efficient study plan. Just a few hours the evening before one of his practical exams.

Which means he won’t even have to feel guilty about not studying.

[Prompto 19:11] tell me you’re free tomorrow. 7?

[Gladio 19:15] Would that we could, gorgeous. You’re going to get a text from Noct any second.

-

[Noct 19:16] burgers tomorrow. well pick you up at 7

[Prompto 19:17] noct. cmon. what if i had plans

[Noct 19:18] gladio said he was free

[Prompto 19:19] i can’t argue with that, i suppose.

-

[Prompto 19:20] he’s lucky i like him so much

[Gladio 19:21] Tell me about it. Maybe I’ll give you a ride home though, yeah? If it doesn’t go so late.

[Prompto 19:22] please and thank you

-

[Noct 20:48] you know you can say no to me right?

[Prompto 20:49] what? dude, of course i do

[Noct 20:49] i mean it. i wont be mad

[Noct 20:50] if you want to hang out with just gladio tomorrow thats okay

[Noct 20:50] if you ever want to not do something i do you can just say so

[Prompto 20:51] noct, buddy, i’m super hyped to get to hang out with you in the absence of textbooks tomorrow. nothing would please me more

[Noct 20:52] you sure?

[Prompto 20:53] i’m a terrible liar. you know that.

[Noct 20:53] youre also the nicest person ever and i dont wanna take advantage of that accidentally or otherwise

[Prompto 20:54] noct. listen to me. you’re my best friend.

[Prompto 20:54] that trumps opportunity for dick. every time. even gladios

[Noct 20:55] dude.

[Prompto 20:56] and let me tell you that’s saying something i assure you

[Noct 20:27] dude. no. please. i get it.

[Noct 20:27] ill willingly listen to you talk about dicks as long as they arent attached to my oldest friends.

[Prompto 20:28] huh. i bet iggy’s packing too

[Noct 20:29] PROMPTO

[Noct 20:29] STOP

[Prompto 20:30] ψ(｀∇´)ψ （☆ω☆*）

[Prompto 20:31] #sorrynotsorry

[Noct 20:31] i think i just had a heart attack

[Prompto 20:32] where are we going tomorrow?

[Noct 20:33] some retro place I never remember the name of

[Noct 20:33] but it has pinball

[Prompto 20:34] yessssssssssss

\- - -

“Triangles freak me out,” Prompto admits to Ignis as they walk from the car to door of the restaurant.

“Trigonometry can be tricky,” Ignis concurs kindly, “I’m happy to help you out at any time.”

“That’d be so cool Iggy, thanks. You’re a much better teacher than our professor,” Prompto enthuses.

Ignis chuckles, “There’s something to be said for the benefit of one on one tuition.”

Prompto hears a scuffle behind him and looks over his shoulder just in time to see Gladio rough up Noct’s hair in a gentle headlock, letting him go before Noct can even really start to fight back. Gladio catches his eye and winks. Prompto blushes, grinning back and happy Noct’s distracted fixing his hair.

As burgers go they’re pretty great. Not as good as _Forresters_ but several leaps ahead of _Kenny’s_ and the pre-frozen deep fried horrors Prompto used to serve up in Gralea. The waitress pushes him pretty hard to add cheese to his burger, flustering him to the point where he almost gives in, only backing off when Gladio clears his throat pointedly.

Still, the food is delicious and Prompto’s full with half his fries left, offering them up to Gladio and letting himself be dragged willingly off to the pinball machines in the corner.

“You wanna come back to mine after?” Noct asks, sliding some coins into the slot.

Prompto considers it, thinking of Ignis’ offer to help with this new mathematical hell he’s found himself in.

But also -

“Gladio might be coming over for a thing,” Prompto says.

Though Gladio didn’t bring his own car so maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he made _other_ plans.

“A thing?” Noct asks, eyebrow arched.

“I was explicitly told not to mention his dick, so…”

Noct elbows him in the side but the distraction makes him lose concentration and his ball slides right past the paddles.

“Oops,” Prompto teases.

Noct rolls his eyes but he flubs the next one too, stepping away with a groan and gesturing for Prompto to take a turn.

“See if you can do better,” Noct mutters.

Prompto does and doesn’t do better, he lasts longer than Noct did but racks up a pitiful amount of points that don't actually surpass Noct’s in anyway.

It’s a nice way to spend half an hour though, shoulder to shoulder with Noct as the two of them continuously fail to succeed in anyway at this generic pinball machine and laughing at these inconsequential failures.

Noctis sighs when his hand comes back from his pocket empty, the last coin already in the machine.

“We should probably head back anyway,” Noct says, “I need to do some work. Ugh. That math worksheet.”

Prompto groans sympathetically, “Don’t remind me.”

“You know Iggy’s gonna be over for a bit, we could sneaky get them done with his help,” Noct suggests - quickly tacking on, “Or not, your choice.”

It’s a tempting offer, the help, but more tempting is a night with Gladio. Prompto’s barely had time take care of himself since their little meet up in Gladio’s car and he’s been constantly wound as tight as the moment he climbed back off his lap ever since.

“Tempting,” Prompto admits.

It would be easier, of course, if Prompto felt confident enough to head over to Gladio now and just _ask_ if he was spending the night alone or not but in the brightly lit restaurant, face to face, with Noct and Iggy within earshot to overhear he just _can’t._

“But next time?” Noct teases.

Prompto nods and Noct turns away from the game finally to lead them back to where Gladio and Ignis are still waiting in their booth. Their conversation seems oddly heated, from here, and Prompto wonders what he and Noct missed.

Then they take two steps closer and he finds out.

“- we’re keeping it casual okay. He’s a killer lay, if you must know, it’s why I keep going back. We have fun together, no strings, no _attachments_. It’s what we both want.”

They’re talking about _him_.

Noctis stops walking and shoots Prompto a look that seems angry, confused and _hurt_ all on his behalf. Prompto doesn’t really know how _he_ feels. It’s not like this is brand new information, he knows _this_ , he’s been telling himself this for weeks now.

What he doesn’t like is Noct getting all worked up over this. _Again_. Whatever he and Gladio do shouldn’t be affecting Noct at all, it’s why he wanted it to pass by his radar, completely unnoticed. He tugs at the sleeve of Noct’s t-shirt, hoping to loosen the tight fold of his arms and let him know it’s _okay_.

“We’re ready to go home,” Noctis tells Ignis, tone short, “Prom’s coming back to mine to study for a bit first.”

So much for letting Prompto decides what he does with his own time. But under the circumstances he understands, and the opportunity for damage control is undeniably useful even if the manner by which he’s been given it is frustrating.

Maybe he’ll be able to talk to Gladio too. Let him know that Prompto’s -

That he’s _fine_ , he thinks, probably.

Ignis drains his coffee, “Of course. Would you still like my help going over some math work?”

Noct’s face doesn’t crack but Prompto seizes the opportunity and says, “Please, Iggy. Thanks.”

“We can drop Gladio off on the way,” Noct states determinedly and Prompto has to try really hard not to roll his eyes.

The silence on the ride back is a little on the awkward side, Ignis valiantly trying to keep the conversation going and Prompto seizes every conversation thread he offers up, chattering away until he realises no one else has anything to say.

It’d probably be easier if Noct and Gladio weren’t in the backseat together, neither speaking much and Noct refusing to even look over at him.

Prompto waits until Gladio’s bid them all a slightly stilted goodnight - shooting Prompto a look that can only be described as regretful - before turning to stare at Noct over the back of his seat.

“Noct,” he and Iggy say at once.

“He’s an ass-hole,” Noct responds quickly, “No one gets to talk about you that way.”

“Noctis,” Ignis scolds gently, pulling the car back onto the road.

“Dude,” Prompto says, a touch more gently, “He gave me a compliment.”

Noct snorts, an angry little huff, “He was so dismissive of you. I have no idea how you think that was _nice_.”

Prompto shrugs, unsure of what to say.

Prompto isn’t really anything _to_ Gladio at this point. Nothing more than a _killer lay_. Dismissive is probably right. Gladio certainly seems better at keeping the distance in their relationship, most of the time. Sure he seems to blur the lines while they’re together, making their actual encounters toe the line of what _casual_ really means.

But maybe Gladio can do that because he so securely knows what Prompto is to him.

Noct deflates slightly, “If you don’t want to come over, I get it.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Prompto tells him, “Yeah - I’m really upset you give a shit about me. Seriously.”

Noct smiles at him and yeah, Prompto’s disappointed to have had his vague plans scuppered but it’s hard to mind too much when he knows it comes from a place of caring. There’s always another day, when exams are over and everything settles down again.

Gladio will still be interested.

Maybe.

-

Prompto has a good evening with Noct, they smash out the worksheets, get Iggy to check them over, correct their mistakes and then boot up Noct’s console for another few hours where all that matters is keeping their characters alive.

But he just can’t settle when he gets back to his apartment. He keeps thinking about Gladio, the way he’d looked getting out of Iggy’s car and the fact that if he and Noct had approached just a minute later Gladio might be here _now_ , working his way inside Prompto’s body and unravelling the tight thread inside him, that’s been building up over the last two weeks.

Prompto doesn’t want him to be upset either, not by Noct’s dismissal on Prompto’s behalf, not when he never wanted it in the first place.

It’s late. The latest he’s ever initiated a conversation with Gladio but he won’t be able to sleep if he just leaves it. He probably won’t get a response but maybe he’ll be able to settle knowing he _tried_.

[Prompto 23:51] sorry about noct earlier

[Prompto 23:51] i feel like i’ve said that before

[Gladio 23:55] Don’t be. I’m sorry if what I said bothered you too.

He really didn’t expect Gladio to be awake and somehow this tiny amount of contact is enough to have him so far from sleep he’s surprised he hasn’t hit the ceiling. Even his dick wakes up, twitching in interest at the mere _idea_ of Gladio.

[Prompto 23:56] i found out i was a killer lay. why would i be bothered?

[Gladio 23:57] Just checking we were still on the same page. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.

Knowing Gladio likes fucking him is not a thing that's ever going to hurt his feelings. Being left alone to deal with this sudden surge of arousal might be literally _painful_ though.

Prompto kicks away his blankets and tugs his boxers down around his thighs. With one hand he takes a hold of his cock, stroking himself to full hardness for a picture.

[Prompto 23:58] you worry too much

[Prompto 23:59] [Image 11675.jpg]

[Prompto 23:59] come be casual with me?

[Gladio 00:00] I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Holy fuck, Freckles.

Ten minutes. Prompto can work with ten minutes.

Blindly he reaches into his bedside table feeling around until his hand touches a bottle of lube, depositing it on the bed by his hip and rummaging in the drawer again until he grasps smooth plastic, pulling free old faithful.

It’s not particularly long, but it had three intensity settings and splits him wider than three of his own fingers can manage. It’s one of the few things to travel from Niflheim with him, Prompto unwilling to part with it when it cost more than he cares to admit even though it was only available lurid green or dark purple.

Prompto’s a little careless with the lube, getting a messy smear across his thigh as hooks his elbow around his knee to open himself up to his own fumbling hands. He knows exactly how much he can take though, how fast he can push himself without pain, exactly the moment he’s ready to work in his second and third fingers.

“Nngh,” he groans stroking along his own walls, pressing the pads of his fingers into _that_ spot inside him so his cock jumps in his hands, a sticky thread of pre-come connecting his head to his belly.

It would be too easy to come like this, Prompto knows, just press against all his sensitive parts and draw his orgasm out in a handful of minutes but he wants _more_.

Prompto pulls his fingers free and gives his cock a squeeze that's _just_ tootight to be pleasurable, keeping himself way away from the edge.

It wouldn’t do to get himself worked up along with open and come in two seconds flat when Gladio gets here.

He slicks up his vibrator and slots the blunt tip against his entrance, grinding the width against his rim to work it in. It _is_ tapered, but not in a way that makes for smooth penetration, just enough that it looks more realistic - as realistic as purple plastic can be - but Prompto kind of likes that, the initial stretch severe enough that Prompto can really _feel_ it, a fairly good approximation for what it’s like to be taken roughly apart by a real dick.

Prompto pushes it inside with a breathless gasp, holding his leg up higher, pressed almost flat against his chest.

Normally he’d be flicking the switch so it comes to life, a slow buzz against his walls that he slowly ramps up until he’s pressing the highest setting directly into his prostate and coming in heaving spurts against his own torso.

But not today, today he keeps it quiet, pressing it deep and just pulling it in and out in smooth steady moves that keep him _there_ but never push him over.

There’s a knock on his door.

Prompto wrenches the toy free, wiping it and his hands hastily with tissues before storing it back in the drawer where it lives to be cleaned properly later. Quickly he festoons himself in a blanket on the off chance anyone happens to be walking by and rushes to the front door.

He doesn’t say hello, just grabs Gladio’s tanktop and pulls him back towards the bed. Prompto tosses the blanket on the floor and lays himself down on the mattress, arching his back to elongate his figure as Gladio’s eyes rake over his form heatedly - _greedily_.

Prompto feels powerful again - desirable- with Gladio’s eyes on him and he smirks as Gladio hurries out of his own clothes, dumping them haphazardly before crawling onto the bed to cover Prompto’s body with his own.

Prompto goes in for a kiss, not giving Gladio any leeway to take over, palming over the dick lying half hard against his hip, working it into the steel flesh he needs.

“I’m all ready for you,” Prompto tells him, speaking the words into his mouth.

Gladio looks sceptical so _of course_ he has to check, has to test him with his fingers and slick him up even more until Prompto’s hole is almost sloppy with it, teasing Prompto’s chest with his teeth and his tongue and Prompto can’t take it anymore, using the hand not tangled in Gladio’s hair to bring the condom to his mouth and tear into the packet.

Prompto wonders what it would be like to feel Gladio without the thin sheath of latex, fingers rolling it down carefully as Gladio pulls back enough to let him work.

Amazing, probably. Considering how good it feels _with_ it there.

And then Gladio is spreading Prompto open, one knee hooked over Gladio’s shoulder and the other being pushed back towards his own, finally finally _finally_ working himself inside Prompto until he’s pressing his thighs to Prompto’s ass and the blond is moaning from the fullness, trying to grind up against him for absolutely everything Gladio can give him.

Gladio gives it to him, fucking him almost ruthlessly in a rhythm that has Prompto moaning wildly as his bed frame creaks, rattling against the wall. He even bites gently at Prompto’s collarbone, roughly telling Prompto to touch himself before the teeth turn slightly less gentle, blooming red across his skin.

It’s so so good, better than the last time, even though the angle should be less obviously satisfying, and Prompto can’t slow himself down when the pleasure boils in his gut, white hot and encompassing until Prompto tosses his head back and milks own release from his dick with rough quick jerks, spurred on by the width and the length and the movement of Gladio inside of him.

Gladio fucks out his own release in a short burst of powerful arrhythmic thrusts, groaning from deep down in his chest and Prompto closes his eyes to imagine that release flooding out inside him, hot and wet to make him even more full than before.

And then it happens again. That bizarre feeling of safety that settles over him like a blanket - like Gladio’s body still over his - and calms the anxious thoughts in his mind that he hadn’t even realised were still there.

Prompto wiggles so he can try and get his arms around Gladio’s shoulders, embrace him back but Gladio’s suddenly moving away, to settle on his side next to him with an arm lazily around Prompto’s waist.

Prompto blinks, feeling strangely emotional in a way he can’t place and busies himself by grabbing the tissues to clean up the mess on his torso. A shower would be better but he’s bonelessly tired now and too comfortable for words with Gladio’s warm body all but cradling him in his bed little bed.

Gladio removes his condom, the two of them tossing all the waste at Prompto’s bin. He doesn’t get up like Prompto was expecting, but stays there at his side gently caressing the length of Prompto’s body, flushed and dewy with sweat, from his knees to the base of his neck. Prompto absorbs the affection silently, greedily, eyelids fluttering until its too much and he has to turn his head and kiss Gladio before his mouth does something stupid and regrettable.

He keeps back all the words he wants to says, pressing them into Gladio’s mouth instead.

 _I like you. Please stay. I want more. Don’t leave me. Please don’t get tired of me_.

Gladio pulls back, to breath maybe and brushes their noses together.

“I gotta get to sleep,” Prompto blurts sleepily, not sure how much of this he can take before he cracks and spills his guts.

He’s dumb and stupid. Needy and irrational. But he doesn’t want this to end now, not because he’s getting all messed up in his feelings. Maybe he won’t even feel this way tomorrow, maybe he’s just tired right now. He always feels things different when he’s tired.

“But if you want to use the shower before you go that’s cool,” Prompto tells him, confused as to why Gladio _still_ hasn’t moved yet, “You won’t keep me up.”

“Oh,” Gladio says, tone surprisingly cold.

Prompto opens his eyes, confused but Gladio leans in to kiss him again before he can work out what’s going on with. Prompto sinks into the kiss, this last exchange all but forgotten by the time they separate again.

Gladio slips off the bed and Prompto mumbles, “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Quickly he rolls over to face the wall so he doesn’t actually have to watch Gladio leave.

When Gladio’s gone a few minutes later, stopping only to pull on his clothes, Prompto has to grab the extra blanket off the ground because suddenly his apartment is freezing cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompto being like: Gladio’s so good at being casual and compartmentalising when we all know that Gladio was absolutely, completely compromised by him is an actual MOOD.  
> Real talk, sometimes my notes for a certain scene are: Prompto is a confused bean. Seriously, that’s it.  
> I made the decision to make Noct allergic to apostrophes and editing his texts is annoying so I can only imagine what its like to read them without the context of knowing what it is he’s saying.  
> Come talk to me please, I love your comments more than I could ever tell you.


	6. Carbuncle Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto finally decides to be honest with himself. And Noctis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait again, you guys. You're all the best <3  
> I forgot to add in the scene of Noct talking to Prompto about Carbuncle much earlier in their relationship and him telling Noct about Solarium even though its in my notes to do so - I think they both got cut from one of my chapters that got out of hand word count wise. .So instead you have to just have Prompto’s introspection on it now. My bad. But if I shoehorn it in here it’ll read weird.  
> Also I’m really glad you guys seem to like Noct and Prompto’s friendship here, it’s so much fun to write these particular versions of them.  
> Prepare yourself for some truly impressive mental gymnastics in this one. Prompto's self esteem is so poor he’ll convince himself of literally _anything_ before the idea Gladio likes him takes hold. Anything.

Prompto rubs at his eye, shifting his contact out of and then back into place. The relief is minor but better than the almost hot itchiness that had been there before.

The relief also only lasts about four seconds. So he does it again.

Noct jabs him in the arm with his pen.

“Ow,” Prompto complains, rubbing that instead.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Noct asks him.

“Fell asleep in my contacts last night,” Prompto admits.

He’d been too miserable after Gladio left to get up and soft them out. Even after he realised he wasn’t going to be sleeping any time soon he’d just laid there despondently, unable to make himself get up and take care of himself.

Prompto had gone round and round in his own head, eventually coming to the conclusion that despite assuring Noct he absolutely would _not_ , he’d gone and caught feelings for Gladio.

A truck load of them.

“Don’t you have glasses?” Noct questions.

Prompto stares at him, “Duh.”

Noct jabs him again, “So _wear_ them dummy.”

Prompto pulls a face, nobody sees him in his glasses. He paid an otherworldly amount of money for these contacts - though they’re probably one of the many things that are _hilariously_ cheaper here - and he only wears his glasses when there’s no other choice. A little discomfort is nothing Prompto hasn’t dealt with before.

“Prom,” Noct says, almost laughing, “Come on. I won’t tell anyone.”

Prompto would like to argue that its not that big a deal but his finger is already in his eye again and he wouldn’t put it past Noct to just pin him down and pull the damn things out himself.

“Fine,” Prompto grumbles and he heaves himself off the floor.

Noct immediately lies down to fill the space he left and Prompto makes a mental note to not let Ignis know the Prince of Lucis just laid himself out on _Prompto’s_ carpet. Prompto vacuums fairly regularly, but the tiny little thing supplied with his apartment is probably not up to scratch to keep the future King clean.

It _does_ make that weird smell when it runs for too long too.

Prompto lets Noct stay on the floor though, clambering over him to collapse onto his couch. His cheek gets squashed against the cushions, knocking his glasses askew.

“How many finals have you got left?” Noct asks, blessedly making no comment on Prompto's glasses – plain black rimmed things.

He's a good egg.

“Three. No wait - four. Math. Social studies. That technical drawing bullshit and then my big painting final on Friday.”

Noct makes a little noise - sympathy Prompto thinks, “You ready for your painting thing? Planned out what you’re doing?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Prompto hedges. Prompto has an idea alright, and it’s largely down to Noct. He’d been struggling to think of something for weeks - months even - since he found out about the final exam, but a series of conversations with Noct and a little peak at a charm from his childhood had set Prompto on the right path. Prompto’s not dead set on his composition yet, but that’ll come to him in the next couple days, he's sure.

Prompto doesn’t want to tell Noct about it yet though, if things go to plan it might be _for_ him.

“What about you?” Prompto nudges, shifting the conversation away from himself.

“Jut this shit -” Noct hefts his math textbook above his head “- and poli-sci on Wednesday.”

Noct had been going _mad_ in his apartment, barely going anywhere besides there and campus, so Ignis had made an amendment to their study schedule to let them do their last math revision session together at Prompto’s instead. Prompto’s got a Crownsguard or two patrolling around his apartment block right now but if he doesn’t see them its easy to pretend it isn’t true.

Hopefully none of his _neighbours_ notice.

“I hate that you finish first,” Prompto gripes playfully.

“Me too,” Noct stresses, then hurriedly adds, “Not that I want more exams, just that it’d be cool to chill with you while everyone stresses themselves towards an ulcer.”

“Instead _I_ get to stress myself towards an ulcer,” Prompto says turning himself onto his back, “Pass me my book?”

Noct sits up with a huff and passes the textbook over, grabbing his own just after. Prompto opens it up at his marked page and stares at the little triangles and the angles and the weird little abbreviations written all over it.

“Ugh, I need Iggy’s cheat sheet.”

Noct snorts but hands Prompto the single sheet of paper filled with Ignis’ handwriting and diagrams that somehow, miraculously makes trigonometry make sense.

“You know the whole test won’t be trig, right?” Noct tells him.

“I know, but I’m feeling pretty good about everything else. I just don’t want to get caught out by anything,” Prompto admits. Prompto’s feeling particularly nervous _now_ because he’d gone into his _Solheim Arts_ exam pretty confidently this morning and then only had material ready to answer _one_ of the essay questions.

“You could leave all the trig parts empty and still pass,” Noct says confidently.

Prompto laughs, “I won’t tell Ignis you said that.”

They work in silence for a few minutes, Prompto lying across the couch and Noct still on the floor, resting up against it. Prompto poorly stifles a yawn and Noct turns to look a little suspiciously at him over his shoulder.

“Why are you so tired anyway?”

Prompto hesitates and considers - not _lying_ , as such, because he hates having to do that but certainly avoiding the question. But ultimately Noct sees Gladio all the time, more often that he does, and it would be all too easy for Gladio to mention it and Noct to think Prompto’s keeping stuff from him.

“Gladio came over last night,” Prompto admits.

“After we dropped you off?” Noct asks, “But you had an exam this morning.”

Prompto shrugs. Yeah, it was not his most grown up decision he ever made and he definitely made it with his dick not his head. Ultimately it probably caused him more unrest than anything but he can’t do anything about it now.

Noct sort of frowns at him a little and then turns back around. With an impressive show of forced casualness he asks, “How’s that going? Gladio was like, nice to you right?”

“It’s fine,” Prompto says, probably too quickly.

Noct twists in place, leaning his arm against the couch now so he can look at Prompto properly, “Prom?”

“What?”

Noct rolls his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Prompto insists.

“Did Gladio do something -”

“Gladio’s fine, okay. He’s great. _Amazing_ , even,” Prompto tells him.

Noct raises an eyebrow, “Why do you sound so _mad_ about it.”

“Because -” Prompto hesitates again, but if there’s one person he can talk to it’s Noct, “Because Gladio’s _amazing_ and I’m just me and I’m _dumb_.”

Noct jabs him for the _third_ time this evening.

“Dude,” Prompto complains.

“You’re _not_ just anything and you're not dumb. Tell me what’s going on?”

Prompto shrugs.

“Nothings going on that hasn’t _been_ going on,” Prompto says, “I just - I dunno.”

“You _like_ Gladio, don’t you?” Noct guesses.

“What’s not to like?” Prompto tries to joke but ends up sounding just a bit miserable.

“Prompto,” Noct says seriously, “You know if the casual thing is no good for you you need to break it off.”

Prompto sits himself upright. He knows that’s kind of true but it’s also the last thing he wants to hear.

Prompto has a _plan_ now. He’s not going to let him and Gladio do anything outside of the amazing sex. No going out for food, no giving him rides places, no _bringing_ him food and coffee on campus.

If they’re casual they’re going to _be_ casual.

Nothing else.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Prompto argues.

“It makes _perfect_ sense,” Noct says, “Gladio’s not going to give you what you want so you should end it now before _he_ does and you get hurt more.”

“No no,” Prompto says, “Listen. You don’t find out a thing you like is gonna go away and then stop having it.”

Noct frowns, looking confused, “What?”

“It’s like pizza, okay,” Prompto says and Noct just looks even _more_ confused, “So say someone - your Dad. Okay. Your Dad decides to ban pizza in Insomnia -”

“He would never,” Noct puts in, “He’d lose his heir to the throne.”

Prompto snorts, “Okay, but just say he does. But it’s not an overnight thing. It’s like, from January there’s no pizza any more. What are you gonna do, stop eating it _now_?”

Noct opens his mouth, closes it and then looks thoughtful.

“Probably not,” Noct admits, though he looks like he’d rather _not_ say it.

“Exactly. If you know something you really like isn’t going to be around forever then you have as much of it as you can _while_ you can,” Prompto enthuses, glad that his analogy had panned out a lot better than he thought it would.

Noct still looks a little unconvinced though.

“So, yeah, I _like_ Gladio. Whatever,” Prompto says - it’s sort of _terrifying_ to admit out loud something he’s only ever really allowed himself to think completely alone in the dead of night, “So I’m just gonna enjoy as much of him as I can, while I can.”

Noct sighs, “If you’re sure.”

“Absolutely,” Prompto says.

Not even a little bit, Prompto thinks.

\- - -

The canvas Prompto bought for his painting final isn’t the right size.

He _thought_ it was the right size but somehow it’s four inches shorter and two narrower than the minimum size for the final submission.

Prompto doesn’t _like_ working so big. He likes working on small details and filling space so intricately you have to really _decide_ what to focus on. He’d _maybe_ get away with just painting the whole thing a flat colour before he starts working and using it as border of sorts but his teacher knows his work so well by now they’ll probably spot it right away. That’s not to say he still wouldn’t get away with it but he wouldn’t want to disappoint them.

It’s fine though. He has time - he can’t really practice the technical drawings anyway and his pencils can only get so sharp - so he can take himself down to the art store and rework his composition a little. Maybe add some more stuff to it.

The weather is kind of miserable though and part of him wishes he was brave enough to cash in on some of Iggy’s kindness and maybe call for a ride home.

But he doesn’t, so Prompto bundles himself up in his coat and steps outside with his expertly wrapped canvas tucked under one arm and some other new supplies nestled safely in his back pack.

Prompto’s wet through by the time he gets home and his boots are probably going to take _days_ to dry but Prompto feels pretty good about actually being able to take control of a situation for once.

That’s one problem solved at least.

\- - -

[Noct 12:09] sorry bud, ive gotta go to the citadel this afternoon

[Prompto 12:11] don’t worry about it. everything okay?

[Noct 12:12] yeah. just meeting with my dad and stuff. iggy says to call him if you want someone to talk to or distract you before your test ＾ω＾

[Prompto 12:13] its just social studies. i’m not too worried.

[Noct 12:14] you and me. all day saturday. games and ignoring the rest of the world.

[Prompto 12:15] a true description of heaven

[Noct 12:16] ill even get up before noon

[Prompto 12:17] （・□・；） ٩(●ᴗ●)۶

[Prompto 12:17] you like me. you really like me.

[Noct 12:18] shut up

Prompto’s smiling when he stows his phone back in his pocket. He’s got a little less than two hours before his social studies exam and realistically he should probably find a nice corner with his textbook and do some last minute revision now his lunch plans with Noct are scuppered - Noct doesn’t even _have_ school for the rest of the year and he was only going to come down to campus to spend some time with Prompto.

But Prompto knows what he’s like and if he sits down to read he’ll find something he doesn’t know, or confuse himself over something unimportant, and get completely psyched out before his test.

So Prompto does something he’s not had time to do for a long while and digs out his camera from his bag, starting to wander almost aimlessly away from the coffee stand.

The light is good today, a bright winter sun filtered pleasantly through a thin cover of clouds.

-

Prompto probably should have set an alarm because he ends up having to sprint back across campus and only just makes it through the doors of the exam hall before they get shut for good.

\- - -

[Ignis 07:46] Good luck today, prompto, I’m sure you’ll do fantastically. Noctis would wish you well himself but he’s understandably still asleep.

[Prompto 07:47] thanks iggy! omw to campus now, got all my stuff. good to go!

[Ignis 07:48] Marvellous. If the forecast rain hits this afternoon allow me a break in my day to drive you to work?

[Prompto 07:49] you don’t have to do that!

[Ignis 07:50] What time is your shift?

[Prompto 07:51] 5. so i have to be done with my final with time to get over there

[Ignis 07:52] Hmm, perhaps my car will give you a little extra time in your exam?

[Prompto 07:53] i can’t argue with that. just got to campus and gonna set up before we start, text you later? X

[Ignis 07:54] Try and enjoy yourself. Remember this is what you love.

-

There’s an empty patch of blue at the top left corner of Prompto’s canvas but he kind of doesn’t hate it.

It’s not like him to leave such an empty space but to fill it would throw the balance off, he thinks. His professor is walking around the room, looking at everyone’s work and they’re obviously not allowed to give advice or opinions but they’re probably only worse than Prompto in their complete inability to control their face.

So next time they’re passing by Prompto watches them carefully while mixing up some of the not quite white paint he needs to add more texture to Carbuncle’s fur. They seem pleased, or not disappointed at least, and Prompto settles slightly in his decision to leave it as it is. Maybe he’ll get some inspiration later in the day but for now the deep colour gives a nice background to make the mythological creature stand out on the canvas.

Prompto had been really careful not to look up any reference pictures online relying only on his friend’s childhood recollections and the small charm he keeps in his bedside table. Noct had seemed embarrassed to show Prompto the little figure, explaining how his Dad had given it to him in Tenebrae when the King had been forced to return home and leave his son to heal alone for a time.

Luna had been the one to tell Noct the stories of Carbuncle, a mischievous but helpful little spirit that bought good dreams, and Noct had in turn past them on to Prompto.

Prompto hopes this painting does Noct proud, hopes it conveys to the prince how much it means to Prompto when he shares parts of his life with him.

-

[Prompto 16:01] nooooocct

[Prompto 16:01] i finished. i did it. lets quit school forever

-

[Prompto 16:03] so I finished with loads of time to get across town and its not raining so I can make my own way to work

[Ignis 16:04] I’m two minutes away. We can get coffee on the way.

[Prompto 16:05] dude, you have way more important stuff to do that drive me to work.

[Ignis 16:06] That’s your opinion （＾∀＾）

[Prompto 16:07] noooo. not the smilies.

[Prompto 16:08] i’ll see you in a couple minutes. out front?

-

[Noct 16:08] im totally up for it but youd be miserable if you dropped out of school

[Prompto 16:09] i mean i’d have to go back to niflheim so yeah

[Noct 16:10] gross

-

[Prompto 16:11] i’m freeeeeeeee

Prompto’s not only free but free with a swathe of free time ahead of him. Sure, he has to go in and talk to Ellen tomorrow about his scholarship - on a _Saturday_ \- and he’s going to take advantage of the schools supplies to make some last minute changes to his portfolio, but otherwise he’s wide open.

And hoping beyond hope Gladio wants to take advantage of that.

[Gladio 16:12] Congrats, Freckles. I bet you smashed it.

It always makes him feel all _squirmy_ and happy when Gladio texts him back super fast. Almost like Gladio likes talking to Prompto as much as Prompto likes talking to him.

Realistically, Prompto realises, he’s probably just bored at work or something.

[Prompto 16:13] i’m pretty proud of my piece

[Prompto 16:14] i called it carbuncle dreaming

[Prompto 16:14] [Image 12896.jpg]

Prompto had taken the picture on a whim, just so he could look at it again while it was with the school for marking.

A car honks and Prompto startles, looking up to see Ignis smiling benignly out of his car. Prompto waves and rushes over.

“Hi Iggy,” he says settling into the passenger seat, “Also, thanks Iggy.”

“You’re welcome,” Ignis says, immediately pulling the car onto the street, “How was your day?”

“Good,” Prompto says quickly, “I think I did really well.”

Prompto glance back at his phone.

[Gladio 16:15] Wow.

[Gladio 16:15] Seriously. Wow.

“Only time will tell,” Ignis says, “But I have utmost faith in your abilities.”

Prompto grins, he’s getting a lot of praise right now.

[Prompto 16:16] (*´ω｀*)

[Prompto 16:16] thank you

[Prompto 16:17] i kind of … did it for noct?

“How was yours?” Prompto asks, maybe a touch too late to be properly polite.

[Gladio 16:18] He’ll love it. Have you shown it to him yet?

“Quite pleasant,” Ignis says, “Though being stuck inside the Citadel all day can be quite demoralising.”

[Prompto 16:19] not yet. i’m like, embarrassed i guess

Prompto _loves_ the piece. It’s probably the best thing he’s ever created and he’s so proud of it. But. _But_. Is there something a bit weird in doing a painting for your best friend? When they hadn’t asked you to do it and don’t really have any overt interest in art.

“Glad to be of serves,” Prompto chirps at Ignis, offering his silly salute.

[Gladio 16:20] Don’t be. You’re so good, Prom. That’s phenomenal. He’ll love it, I promise. Show it to him.

Ignis pulls the car to a stop sooner than Prompto would have thought, parking up outside a cute little coffee shop he’s never been to before. Before he climbs out of the car he quickly types out another text.

[Prompto 16:21] i wanna wait til he can see it in real life

“If you grab a table, I’ll order our drinks,” Ignis suggests. Prompto nods his understanding and quickly picks out a two person table by the window. The heavy rain forecast never arrived but a light drizzle has persisted pretty much all day. Prompto’s not complaining about it. He kind of likes rain, at least water falling from the sky here isn’t frozen solid and painful.

[Gladio 16:22] Whatever you want babe. Got any plans to celebrate your freedom?

Prompto doesn’t have _plans_ but he has ideas. The kind of idea he gets _any_ time he has a free chunk of time.

[Prompto 16:23] well noct’s at the citadel tonight - which I do NOT have clearance for - and also

[Prompto 16:23] i’m working til 9

[Prompto 16:24] but i thought this mega hunk i know might come round after

Gladio responds immediately in the affirmative but not in the way he was expecting. Which means Prompto has to think of an _excuse_ to get out of his offer, because he’s pretty bad at just saying no. Apparently.

[Gladio 16:25] I’ll pick you up.

[Prompto 16:26] i’m actually gonna run back, i’ve been slacking for weeks now

It’s not even a lie, Prompto thinks, he’s barely run in the last two weeks and he’s been carrying around his running leggings and sneakers in his bag _just_ in case for a week now. Noct and Iggy are pretty insistent about not letting him run back from Noct’s apartment at night, however.

“Here,” Ignis says, unloading a small tray of drinks - and food - onto their table, “They don’t have your favourite but their mocha is quite sublime.”

Prompto smiles, “And these?” Prompto points at the two desserts Ignis places down alongside the drinks, a slice of something pale yellow that Prompto can already smell the citrus wafting off and what is undeniably a slice of coffee cake.

“Just something to give you a little boost before your shift,” Ignis says, dropping him a wink and stepping away to get rid of their tray.

[Gladio 16:27] Promise me you’ll be careful.

[Prompto 16:28] （・∀・）ゞ

[Prompto 16:28] always am

[Prompto 16:29] come to mine for 9:45?

That should give Prompto enough time to get home and not be a sweaty mess when Gladio arrives.

Ignis slips into his seat and nudges the yellow tart towards him, “Lemon,” he tells Prompto, “I think you’ll find it to your liking.”

“Ah, thanks Iggy, this is so nice,” Prompto says.

“Seemed only right to treat you a little bit considering you have work this evening,” Ignis demures, “It’s important to me that my friends are well cared for.”

Prompto had thought about that a bit recently, that Ignis - and Gladio to some extent - were _his_ friend now even outside his relationship with Noct. It’s the first time he’s ever had the notion returned to him though and he blushes through his first sip of mocha.

Ignis smiles kindly at him, like he understands what Prompto’s thinking but says nothing and just hands him a fork. He also doesn’t say anything when Prompto less than discreetly checks his phone.

[Gladio 16:30] Can’t wait.

Prompto grins, broad and wide. His potentially awful day shaping up to be pretty good, all things considered. He’s got a late night ahead of him, sure, but for the _best_ reasons. Gladio will make him feel better.

“I admit,” Ignis says, “I had hoped to see your work, but I realise it must remain on campus for marking.”

“Oh, yeah,” Prompto says, “I think I get it back next semester. But I have a picture, if you wanna see it?”

“Please,” Ignis says eagerly.

Prompto swipes open his phone and scrolls back up in his message with Gladio for the picture. Ignis absolutely notices he does this rather than switches out to his gallery but by the time Prompto’s realises it’s suspicious it’s too late to do anything about it.

“Here,” Prompto says, making it full screen and passing it over. Ignis cradles his phone carefully and stares at the screen for a long moment, eyes flitting over the different details.

“I can’t wait to see it in person,” Ignis murmurs.

“It’s _big_ ,” Prompto points out, making a vague gesture with his hands to simulate the width of his canvas.

Ignis nods, passing the phone back, “Noctis will love it.”

“You really think so?” Prompto checks. That’s two votes for this not being a completely dumb idea.

“I know so,” Ignis says firmly.

-

Work is _awful_.

Prompto’s good day turns shitty in four hours.

It’s always bad on a Friday - Insomnia at large seems to have designated it as the regional _cheat day_ \- with a line three deep from the moment Prompto opens up his register, right through the fifteen minutes he’s supposed to grab at seven to use the bathroom and hydrate himself. It drops down to a steady turnover at about eight forty-five and Prompto sends Erin off for _her_ break because she’s closing up with Erinn when she arrives.

Erinn arrives late, of course, swanning in five minutes after her shift starts like she’s not even in a hurry.

“Just a minute!” she calls as she heads for the back room.

Erin gives him a commiserating look as she passes a customer their order. “I can handle it,” she tells him, “If you wanna head out.”

Prompto looks at the short line and row of orders on the counter and shakes his head. She totally _can_ handle it, but if he steps away with no one to replace him those people still waiting will be _mad_ he knows.

Prompto pours out a couple teas, placing them into a cardboard tray just as the kitchen rings the bell for an order fulfilled. Prompto goes to grab it and when he’s back he’s passes the food and the tea over to the customer - who _kind of_ mumbles a thank you - just in time for Erinn to slip behind the register and start taking the next order.

“Go,” Erin enthuses, “You have a date or something. I can tell.”

Prompto snorts and offers her a smile, “Something,” he admits.

She winks at him and laughing a little Prompto slips away to the back room.

Quickly he changes his jeans for his leggings, bundles his short boots with them in his backpack then fusses with the straps, tightening them up and securing the band around his chest so it doesn’t move around too much against his back while he runs.

Realistically he’s too hungry for this and the stressful shift has zapped his end of finals high right out of him. But he’s run under more duress before so he walks right past the corner _Sakana_ exists on then takes off at a fast jog towards his apartment.

-

Prompto has to turn his shower cooler than he likes for washing his hair but when he first turns it blisteringly hot and steps in it doesn’t refresh him like normal but makes him claustrophobic and _sweatier_.

Prompto climbs out of the little stall, relieved more than refreshed and roughly towel dries his hair then his body. Forgoing restrictive jeans Prompto grabs his comfiest sweats - that have no holes or stains - and throws on a navy blue t-shirt. Unable to face the hairdryer he simply triple folds his small towel and drapes it over his shoulder so drips from his hair don’t soak through his clothes.

His fridge is a _sorry_ state of affairs.

He’d been aware that he was running low on food for a few days; yesterday he’d hand his last ramen for lunch and some leftover chilli for dinner. Prompto hasn’t really eaten today apart from that lemon tart.

Nerves had ruined his appetite this morning so he’d forced down his last banana before his painting final, relying on the fact his boss would toss him some sushi that’s on it’s date. But they’d been so busy he’d not had a chance to eat and then his boss had been in such an awful mood towards the end of the evening he didn’t dare go into the kitchen to ask for something to take home with him.

Prompto’s not _really_ hungry now though either, even though he knows he should be, so he pulls out the end of his bread loaf - the top slice is beyond stale but the ones underneath will probably be alright toasted either side of some melted cheese. Prompto presses the bread on either side of the single slice of cheese he has left - honestly he’s not sure he’s going to _buy_ cheese that much any more, the stomach aches just aren’t worth it - and carefully butters the outside before dropping it into the heating frying pan.

Someone knocks on his door.

 _Gladio_.

“Hey,” Prompto says when the doors open, hopping up onto his toes to kiss Gladio quickly before retreating back inside to stop his meagre dinner from burning. Prompto wishes he could have let the kiss linger a little longer, give Gladio time to respond but needs must at this point.

Prompto flips the sandwich over and turns the heat down so the other side doesn’t cook as fast. No point in a grilled cheese if the cheese doesn’t have time to melt.

Or so living in Insomnia has taught him anyway.

“Haven’t you had dinner?” Gladio asks.

He sounds a little annoyed, Prompto thinks. Prompto doesn’t know why.

“We were too busy at work for me to take my break and then my boss was in a mood so I couldn’t bring anything home,” Prompto explains.

Gladio steps closer, “You should have text me, we could have gone out - also,” Gladio starts, apparently realising something, “I’m pretty sure him not letting you have breaks is _illegal_ , Prom.”

Prompto doesn’t know if that’s true, not when he only worked four hours. His boss is an asshole, sure, but Prompto’s sure he always tows the line of legality.

“That’s not really what we do,” Prompto blurts without thinking.

Casual.

Casual relationships don’t involve going out for dinner. Prompto’s _trying_ to focus on what they actually are and not let his imagination get the better of him but every time Gladio’s mouth offers _more_ its hard for Prompto not to read intent there that doesn’t exist.

“Is that all your having?” Gladio checks, watching as Prompto presses down on the sandwich with his spatula.

“I don’t have anything else in,” Prompto admits a little sheepishly. He’s an adult, he should be taking better care of himself than this, “Food shopping’s not really been a priority.”

Gladio sidles right up to his side, his hand almost too warm where it rubs gently at his back. Gladio presses a firm kiss to the side of his head and offers, “Let me order you something. Didn’t you run too?”

Prompto leans into Gladio’s hand a little, prodding his dinner. “I’m too tired to really be hungry,” Prompto admits, “I’ll go shopping on my way back from school tomorrow and eat something substantial then.”

Gladio makes a noise, halfway between encouraging and thoughtful. But he sounds amused when he as asks, “Wasn’t your last exam today? And it’s _Saturday_ tomorrow.”

Prompto giggles.

“I have a few last minute things to do for photography, need to glue some stuff in my portfolio, it won’t take long,” Prompto promises. He flips the grilled cheese out of the pan onto the waiting plate and then hops up onto the counter, biting into it even though its way too hot.

Gladio watches him closely and Prompto tries not to fidget under the intense attention. Prompto’s a little startled when Gladio’s fingers touch his forehead.

“You feeling okay?” Gladio asks, “You’re hot.”

Prompto knows what Gladio really means, of course, but Prompto’s not going to sit here and let Gladio _worry_ about him, “Aw shucks, Big Guy, thanks.” Prompto tosses in a wink for good measure.

Gladio pinches his ribs, a soft pressure that tickles more than anything and has Prompto snorting into his sandwich.

“You know what I mean, Freckles, you getting sick?” Gladio asks.

Prompto hopes not, but there is a faint pain at his temples that might suggest his hopes are for nought.

“I’m just a bit run down,” Prompto says, “I’ll be fine after some sleep.”

Gladio nods, but he looks thoughtful, glancing back towards the door.

“Maybe I should have come round tomorrow,” Gladio says softly.

Prompto’s eyes widen, “Nooooooo,” Prompto complains petulantly. No, no, no, Prompto knows what he wants. What will make him feel better, “I wanted to unwind my favourite way.”

Prompto feels like he _could_ definitely sleep right now but that’s not what he _wants_ to do.

Gladio rolls his eyes but leans forward to kiss Prompto’s jaw, lingering right at the sharp edge of it and working Prompto over until he can’t hold back his pleased sigh.

“Lets watch a movie,” Gladio says decisively, pulling away with a lingering look. He teases, “You can rest a bit then we’ll get down to the good stuff. Wouldn’t do for me to have to do all the work.”

And isn’t _that_ an idea. Gladio flat on his back, letting Prompto work him over, willingly giving over control to Prompto who has no hope of _taking_ that control. Prompto’s mouth goes dry.

Holy shit does he _want_.

“Ye olde _Moogleflix_ and Chill. I _like_ it,” Prompto says instead of putting words to all the rapid fire pictures in his head.

Gladio leaves him to eat, turning on the television and getting the app open. Prompto watches with no small amount of intrigue as Gladio scrolls without hesitation to the first _Astral Wars_ film. Prompto has zero complaints.

Prompto’s chewing the last bit of his dinner when Gladio comes back to him, placing his plate into the sink for him and then immediately shifting Prompto up into his arms. Prompto hums contentedly as large hands settle on his thighs holding him up high, and slips his arms around Gladio’s shoulders.

Prompto leans down the short gap between their mouths to kiss Gladio, mouth moving eagerly if a little slow. Gladio cinches him tighter to his body, hands squeezing his thighs and Prompto sighs contentedly into Gladio’s mouth. Prompto feels across Gladio’s shoulders and then appreciatively over the muscles in his biceps.

Prompto pulls back with a groan giving Gladio’s arms a squeeze.

“These arms, dude, holy shit, I can’t,” Prompto wines. Prompto feels his cock give a kind of half-hearted twitch, not exactly coming to life but certainly reminding Prompto that it exists.

Gladio laughs, looking pleased and with very little jostling to Prompto he lays on the couch, reclining himself back with Prompto spread over him. Prompto reaches, touching Gladio’s jaw and they come together in another kiss, slow and oddly soft, Gladio’s hands gentle on his waist.

Prompto’s glad he feels it coming before it happens and he has enough time to pull back and cover his mouth when he yawns.

Gladio grins at him, looking a little soft around the edges and his palms stroke up Prompto’s spine underneath his t-shirt, skin against skin.

Prompto blushes, “Sorry. Just let me -” Prompto tries to clear his head but he feels odd, like there’s cotton wool in his ears, “- I can sort you out in a minute. Just need to -” Prompto yawns again, his blush deepening.

Gladio gives him a little tug, pulling Prompto flat against him and turns Prompto’s head towards the TV, tucking him beneath his chin.

Its maybe the comfiest Prompto’s ever been and he’s barely even exaggerating when he thinks that.

Normally the two of them would be rock solid against one another by now, hands roaming and clothes being haphazardly discarded. Prompto can feel _some_ interested from Gladio pressing against his thigh but its not enough to have his own answering in kind or dispel the vague fog that seems to have descended over him.

“Lets just watch the movie for a bit. I mean - _I_ should probably watch this to get some context for _Astral Wars 4,_ ” Gladio says.

Prompto reels up a little in shock, squinting to get a good look at Gladio’s face, “Wait - you’ve never seen the other _Astral Wars_?” Prompto asks, Gladio shakes his head and Prompto laughs, “But you came to see it with us.”

Gladio rubs his back again, a warm relaxing circle, “You and Noct wanted to so me and Iggy came along. You do that kind of stuff for your friends.”

“Huh.”

It’s the second time today he’s had it pointed out to him, that he has friends outside Noct. Both Ignis _and_ Gladio have now confirmed it and it does something funny inside Prompto’s chest.

Prompto fidgets to get a little more comfortable, resting his cheek against Gladio’s pec and reducing the spread of his thighs to be over just _one_ of Gladio’s impressive thighs.

 _This_ actually might be the comfiest he’s ever been, for real. Iggy’s mattress topper withstanding.

“These are my _favourites_ ,” Prompto murmurs as the opening exposition comes to a close, “Seriously, you’ve been missing out.”

Prompto’s fairly sheltered by Insomnian standards, so the idea that _he’s_ seen this pinnacle of Lucian media when Gladio hasn’t kind of blows his mind. Gralean films have made no traction over here and Prompto had spent an afternoon trying to explain the plot of _his_ favourite movie from back in Niflheim to almost no avail.

Solarium is something you just have to _see_.

Prompto buries another yawn in Gladio’s chest, blinking slowly as his least favourite character comes briefly onto the screen.

“Isn’t there a whole extended universe and stuff?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods. “I have all the graphic novels,” he says, last words distorted by another yawn.

The first one had been an unexpected birthday gift from Ignis and the rest he’d managed to pick up second hand but in excellent condition from one of his favourite charity shops.

Gladio hums thoughtfully and continues to stroke Prompto’s back.

Prompto blinks and when he opens his eyes again the film is further along than he expected it to be.

He frowns at the sight but his eyes feel heavy and he blinks again.

\- - -

Prompto wakes up on the couch and it takes him way too long to work out what that means.

He’d fallen asleep on Gladio last night.

 _Literally_ fallen asleep on him.

Prompto scrambles upright and staggers to his bathroom, swapping his gross dry contacts out for his glasses so he holds some hope of being able to see what’s going on.

His phone is _almost_ dead, having not been charged yesterday, so he falls onto his bed, plugging it in and checking the time. It’s almost eight and the art room opens up in half an hour for last minute bits and pieces. Prompto has a meeting with Ellen at 9:30 and then he’s unfortunately got an early shift at work that scuppered his and Noct’s day of gaming plans.

Prompto needs to text Gladio to apologise but he also needs to get his ass in gear of he doesn’t want to be on campus _all_ morning.

-

Sorting out his portfolio takes a small handful of minutes. Prompto’s been pretty good at keeping on top of it as he goes so he only has to stick in half a dozen photographs and write a few paragraphs about _intent_ and _inspiration_ before he’s zipping it back up and then getting in line behind a few other students to submit it to the department for review.

Prompto had even dallied a little, adding needless embellishment with metallic pens just so it looked like he was as stressed over it as some of his course mates that are frantically arranging work into shiny new portfolios with the price tags still on.

The state of his portfolio doesn’t affect his grade, technically, but the school likes to keep an eye on their body of work to assess their progress. Certain professors like to have a look before accepting students into their classes, for instance.

Prompto’s looked at the course list for next semester but he hadn’t wanted to spend _too_ much time looking before he was a hundred percent certain he’d be progressing to next term at all.

Prompto makes sure to tuck the receipt the lady at the desk gives him in return for his portfolio securely into his wallet.

And texts Noct about it for good measure.

[Prompto 09:01] when i’m freaking out in a month about not being able to find the receipt for my portfolio remind me its in my wallet

Prompto doesn’t expect him to be awake yet. Not by a long shot. So he just tucks his phone back in his pocket and makes his way out of the art building. Habit has him stopping by the coffee cart, even though its an expense he should probably avoid, where he orders a mocha with a shot of caramel syrup. The barista looks at him a little askance but Prompto likes his coffee sweet, there’s nothing he can do about it.

Fortified by the caffeine he climbs the stairs of the administration building and sits himself in the chair outside Ellen’s office, too early to consider knocking already.

Gladio’s not text him yet, and Prompto doesn’t know if that’s because he doesn’t _care_ that Prompto couldn’t follow through on a promise last night or if he's made about it.

[Prompto 09:11] so mark me down as the worst hook up of all time

[Prompto 09:12] you should have woken me up after a while

Prompto waits. Not sure how long it might be until he responds but willing to pretty much stare at his phone until it’s time for his appointment.

Thankfully it doesn’t take that long.

[Gladio 09:15] You know what, somehow I still managed to have a really good time.

Prompto blushes even though there’s really no one around to see it.

[Prompto 09:16] shut up (´ω｀*)

[Prompto 09:16] i hope i didn’t drool on you or anything

[Gladio 09:17] No comment.

Prompto stifles a laugh into his coffee, not wanting any passersby to think he’s a complete loon.

[Prompto 09:18] gladiooooooooooo

[Prompto 09:19] i’m feeling super well rested now. come over later and i’ll make it up to you??

[Prompto 09:19] i had plans last night dammit

Vague plans, that had been formed only in the moment and spurned on by Gladio’s words but they’d become more concrete in the light of day while he’d lamented his inability to stay awake last night.

[Gladio 09:20] Oh yeah? Do enlighten me?

[Prompto 09:21] right position, wrong activity

[Gladio 09:22] Well shit, that’s something I could get behind.

[Prompto 09:23] maybe after, if we have time.

[Prompto 09:23] tonight??? i’m only working til five

[Gladio 09:24] No can do, baby, got a family dinner and I promised Iris I’d stay over, it’s her birthday tomorrow, taking her for pancakes in the morning.

Prompto pouts for real, disappointed that he’s being turned down. Not that he’s taking it personally of course, Prompto knows how much Gladio loves his little sister. Ignis and Noct like her too, he thinks, have always spoken highly of her when she’s come up in conversation.

She has a crush on Noct, he knows, which is probably really adorable. Prompto’s seen pictures of her now, too, and she looks like a sweet little thing.

[Prompto 09:25] (T＿T) (T＿T) (T＿T) (T＿T) (T＿T)

[Prompto 09:25] iris is lucky she cute or i’d be so mad right now

[Prompto 09:26] oh hey will you still be coming in for your tattoo?

[Gladio 09:27] Yeah, she’s going ice skating with her friends in the afternoon so I can still make it.

[Gladio 09:28] I’d do something with you after but I promised Iris I’d go back home again.

[Prompto 09:30] oh no, you should totes spend time with her. just glad i get to see you at all <3

Prompto sends the message and then realises immediately that it was a bad idea.

He absolutely should _not_ be letting Gladio know he wants to see him even when there’s no sex on the table. That’s such a dumb move.

Prompto needs to be more careful.

“Prompto?” Ellen says, head poking out her door, “Come on in.”

Prompto startles and scrambles his phone away again as he gets to his feet. Ellen holds the door open for him.

“How were your exams?” she asks once he’s inside and she’s snapped the door closed.

“Good,” Prompto says quickly, “Well, at least I think so.”

“I’m sure you did wonderfully,” Ellen says. She takes a seat and types away at her computer for a moment.

“Now, assuming you past all your exam - and judging from your previous scores you will have - you’ve fulfilled everything you need to do to progress to next year with your scholarship.”

“Awesome,” Prompto says sincerely, “When do we find out our grades?”

“About a week or so,” Ellen says, “Depends on each professor’s class load but you’ll get an email. Make sure to sign up for any classes you really want as soon as they’re posted. On the off chance you get refused anything on academic grounds you’ll be able to apply for more classes afterwards and its best to be at the top of lists.”

Prompto nods and makes a mental note to sit down with Noct and arrange their schedules as soon as they become available.

Ellen turns away from her computer and offers him a smile, “Any concerns at all?”

“Nothing,” Prompto says, “Well actually. There’s the payment for my apartment -”

“I was just going to get to that,” Ellen assures him, “You remember how much the monthly payment is?”

“Yep,” Prompto says. The number has been seared into his brain.

“And you’ll be able to make it every month?”

Prompto’s not sure what will happen if he says no but he’s picked up an extra shift at work and has even managed to accrue a pathetic amount of savings on the off chance that shift disappears.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “How do I -?”

Ellen starts to rummage for some paperwork.

“You can either come into the finance department every month and make a payment that way,” Ellen explains, laughing when Prompto pulls a face at the suggestion.

That sounds like an annoying hassle. And the exact sort of thing he’d forget to do and land himself in a heap of trouble.

“ _Or_ ,” Ellen says, “We can set up an automatic payment so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Lets do that,” Prompto says quickly.

“Have you got your account details with you?”

Prompto nods and Ellen passes over a sheet of paper.

-

Prompto’s unpacking groceries when Noct finally gets back to him. Managing to - _just_ \- fulfil his promise to be up before noon despite the fact they ended up not having any real plans.

[Noct: 11:38] i showed iggy this message

Prompto actually has to read his last message to know what this is about but when he does laughs.

[Prompto 11:39] smart move

[Prompto 11:39] hey can i come over after work?

[Noct 11:40] fuck yes. when do you finish? well pick you up

[Prompto 11:41] 5!

-

Ignis slides the cute little pastries into the oven and then washes his hands. Coming back over to the island with a chopping board and a knife before stepping away to gather ingredients.

“That’s a lot of vegetables,” Noct complains, looking over the onions and the carrots as Ignis sets them down. The _aromatics_ \- as Ignis would say - don’t seem offend Noct in the way more substantial plants do.

Ignis fixes him with a look and Noct turns away slightly, swinging his legs on his stool.

“You’re already getting dessert,” Ignis points out, starting to peel an onion with deft movements.

“Only because Prompto got one yesterday and I didn’t,” Noct mutters petulantly.

Prompto can’t imagine this is _actually_ something Noct has an issue with so much as Noct has seen this as a clever excuse to get his favourite pastry out of his adviser.

The grin Noct can't bite back is a dead give away.

Ignis shakes his head and says plainly, “ _Prompto_ had an exam at eight yesterday and then worked until nine pm. You however slept until one o’clock in the afternoon and then achieved little else other than managing to shower before situating yourself on the couch for six straight hours.”

Noct rolls his eyes but casts Prompto an oddly guilty look.

“How was campus today?” Noct asks, “I’d have come with you if you asked.”

“Weirdly quiet, but the good coffee cart was still open,” Prompto tells him, “But, uh. No you wouldn’t have, my appointment was at nine thirty.”

Noct laughs a little sheepishly.

“What was your appointment for?” Ignis asks absently. Prompto watches him dice the onion into perfect little squares.

Perhaps its that distraction that has him saying, “I needed to set up a payment plan for my rent next semester.”

“Payment plan?” Ignis says over the top of Noct’s confused, “But you’re on a full ride?”

Prompto feels his face go hot, tips of his ears burning.

“One of my scholarships fell through,” Prompto admits, “But its not a big deal. I have it covered.”

“Is that why you started working more?” Noct asks.

Prompto nods but then shrugs, “It’s really not a lot of money a month. I still - uh. Have more than I ever have before. Y’know?”

Noct’s face creases and somehow Prompto knows what he’s about to offer before he says anything and it means Prompto’s already shaking his head before Noct’s half done talking.

“You know that I could pay it for - c’mon, why not?”

“You know why not,” Prompto mutters, “I’m not a mooch.”

Noct sighs, “I wouldn’t think you were.”

Prompto can feel Ignis’ eyes on him but when he turns to look at the adviser he’s already focusing on his chopping board again.

Noct sighs again but seems resigned not to bring it up any more and Prompto leans towards him to knock their shoulders together gratefully.

“How was work last night?” Ignis asks.

“Awful,” Prompto admits, “Everyone and they’re uncle Alvin wanted sushi yesterday and _I_ didn’t even get any free sushi out of it.”

“Gross,” Noct mutters, “At least tonight you get to eat -” Noct waves his hand over the assembled ingredients, “ _Whatever_ this is.”

Ignis rolls his eyes, “It’s a Galahdian dish. There are skewers involved so I’m sure you approve.”

“Practising for Nyx aren’t you?” Noct teases and Prompto’s pretty sure if there wasn’t a counter between them Ignis would have kicked him in the shins.

“ _I_ love Galahdian food,” Prompto puts in mesmerised again by the way Ignis is now chopping a carrot into perfectly equal pieces. A touch wistfully he adds, “Wish I could cook like this.”

Ignis puts down his knife and then opens a drawer to pull out a second one, then reaches to where there’s a small stack of chopping boards. He puts the knife and a second onion on top of the board and then slides it in front of Prompto.

“Now is a good a time as any to start learning,” Ignis says.

Prompto sits up eagerly and Noct laughs.

“Show my how you’d peel that,” Ignis instructs and Prompto tries his absolute very best.

Prompto’s not very good but dinner is still edible when he’s done.

\- - -

Prompto doesn’t have _much_ to do at Insomnia Ink that Sunday.

He arrives earlier than normal by way of not having to spend some time studying beforehand and he’s got all his regular cleaning jobs and filing done before they break for lunch.

Eli does three tattoos back to back that morning, simple little designs he’d preplanned with clients.

Two of them are on people’s wrists and it makes Prompto nervous how _pretty_ they look. Prompto rubs nervously under his wristband while Eli adds vibrant colours inside the lines and finds himself imagining what something he _chose_ would look like on his bare wrist.

When Prompto carefully wraps her wrist and goes through the cleaning procedure and recommends ways to make it itch less he tells her how much he likes it and she smiles gratefully at him and tells him he’s doing a really good job.

Prompto’s sat behind the main desk after that with Eli next to him, sketchbook open but no art being made. Eli turns away from the computer where he’s been ordering stuff and pokes him gently in the face.

Prompto startles, sitting himself more upright and reaching blindly for his sketchbook.

“What are you thinking so hard about over there,” Eli asks half laughing.

Prompto pats around the desk, trying to find his missing pencil and manages to locate it wedged half under the keyboard.

Eli clears his throat to encourage Prompto to answer.

“Tattoos, I guess,” Prompto admits, still imagining thin dark lines of his choosing over the skin of his wrist.

It’s exciting _and_ terrifying.

“Well it’s not like I can tell you that’s inappropriate or something,” Eli says, turning fully away from the computer, “You wanna talk to me about it or no?”

Prompto sighs, “I was just thinking about what my first tattoo will be. Or _where_ it’ll be.”

Eli’s eyes flicker to his covered wrist for barely half a second and he says, “Completely up to you.”

“I don’t want to do the first one myself,” Prompto tells him, something he’d realised a little while ago, “Will you -”

“Of course,” Eli says at once, “Of course I will. As soon as you’re ready.”

Prompto smiles a little and picks up his sketchbook with less nerves than before.

“You have ideas?” Eli asks.

Prompto nods and flicks through his book to a double page spread near the back where he’s been dropping odd sketches. He eyes some stylised barbed wire he’d been considering for his upper arm but now thinks might be more attractive wrapped around his wrist.

Eli leans towards him eagerly.

“So I was drawing stuff like this,” Prompto says indicated the evolution of barbed wire across the page.

“Looks good,” Eli says, “Lots of people get stuff like this.”

“Is that bad?” Prompto asks. He doesn’t really mind the idea of getting a tattoo that other people already have similar of, not if he gets to decide. Prompto’s always wanted to belong, after all. To something other than a sick facility for kids.

Eli shakes his head, “Not necessarily. I don’t like using the stencils -” Eli points at the tattoo catalogue perched on the end of the counter, “But if I do six butterflies in one day I’m not _mad_ about it. Tattoos mean what they mean to the person and it’s not my job to make a judgement on that.”

Prompto considers that and finds he _likes_ it.

With his pencil Prompto taps a little the little cluster of stars in one corner.

“I also really like these,” Prompto says.

Eli hums thoughtfully and plucks the pencil from between Prompto’s fingers. He makes a move like he’s going to draw directly in the book and then changes his mind, reaching for a fresh sheet of paper instead.

Prompto wouldn’t have minded if Eli _had_ drawn inside, he’ll probably have to remove these pages if he needs to submit the book at school anyway but it’s nice to get to watch Eli draw for a while. He’s used to watching Eli sketch roughly on skin and then ink in the details of a tattoo and somehow in all of that its easy to forget that Eli’s an artist on paper too.

Eli sketches out a band of barbed wire, leaving a gap in the middle where he adds a small star.

“So we could do something like this, wrapped all the way around. Or -” Eli quickly sketches a full band of the barbed wire but this time adds a slightly larger star beneath the band, “Or just like this.”

Prompto considers them, he likes them both for their own merit, particularly drawn to the uninterrupted band of wire.

“Tell me if I’m reading the room wrong,” Eli adds, “But you want this on your other wrist?”

“Maybe,” Prompto says, “I hadn’t considered it until today.”

“I’m surprised you never asked if we could cover the other one,” Eli says gently.

“I went to somewhere in Niflheim when I was eighteen,” Prompto admits uneasily, “And he said even if he was _allowed_ to cover it he couldn’t because it’s too big and too dark. I don’t think a black rectangle will make me feel much better.”

“Not allowed?” Eli asks, frowning.

“There’s some government law about covering these up,” Prompto explains, “Someone got put in jail for having theirs like, cut out.” Prompto grimaces, wrist burning uncomfortably at the idea.

“That’s horrible,” Eli says shakily, “I thought when Lucis busted those places apart they made Niflheim sign an agreement to care for those recovering from the enslavement. Making it illegal to remove the marks of it doesn’t seem particularly in line with that agreement.”

“What?” Prompto says, surprised. He was aware that Lucis had uncovered the facilities, but didn’t realise they’d had much of a role outside that specific mission.

“I thought you didn’t know anything about all that,” Prompto says, trying not to accuse Eli of anything but his voice coming out oddly sharp anyway.

Eli looks almost sheepish.

“I looked up some stuff after you told me - nothing specific. Just, I realised how little I know about stuff that doesn’t directly affect me.”

“Oh,” Prompto says, not really sure how he feels about _that_. Prompto tries to squash down the slightly uncomfortable feeling that’s welled up inside him from nowhere.

Eli said _nothing specific_ which means he didn’t look Prompto up in that horrible database and find out that he has no parents. That he was made from _nothing_ somehow.

“Would something like this work for me?” Prompto asks, indicating Eli’s sketches again.

Eli nods but before he can speak the bell above the door chimes and Prompto looks up to see Gladio strolling inside. He stands up whip fast, grabbing the paper and quickly folding it up to hide in his back pocket for some reason.

Eli gives Prompto a perfectly neutral look and says, “Whenever you’re ready, kid, you let me know, okay?”

Prompto nods and turns to approach Gladio instead.

Eli calls over, “Back today, arms are done for now.”

And Prompto gets to be thoroughly distracted by Gladio’s chest as he pulls off his t-shirt.

-

Prompto makes coffee and grabs the box of doughnuts he’d picked up yesterday to take over to Eli’s station.

Eli eyes him sceptically and Prompto defends himself, “Post exam treat.”

“You deserve it,” Gladio says quickly and Prompto assumes he doesn’t know about the lemon tart he’d had with Ignis on Friday and the little Tenebraean pastries Ignis had made last night.

Prompto beams at him nonetheless and Gladio returns it with slightly less enthusiasm than Prompto’s used to before pulling his phone out of his pocket and focusing on that instead.

Right. Gladio’s not all that interested in him when they’re not in bed. He has to remember that.

Prompto wonders, with more anxiety than he should, if Gladio’s getting tired of him. Noct had said that Gladio never spends very long with each of his _partners_ and despite everything he and Prompto have been carrying on for a few months now.

Gladio’s probably getting _bored._

But he’s also frowning, looking concernedly down at his phone and Prompto’s not the kind of person that can ignore that and not ask:

“Everything okay?”

Gladio looks up, expression clearing into a soft smile, “Oh, yeah. Iris’ friends surprised her with a little pizza party so she was just letting me know.”

Prompto’s heart just about melts.

“That’s so _cute_ ,” Prompto enthuses.

Gladio laughs, a deep warm sound from right in his chest.

Prompto’s stomach does a thing. Not an unpleasant thing, but a thing nonetheless.

“Your friends never take you to an all you can eat pizza buffet when you were a kid?” Gladio asks.

Prompto laughs, a surprised little snort, “Gralea doesn’t really have pizza parlours, so…no. But thanks for assuming I had friends man, that’s nice.”

Gladio looks a little dumbfounded, like he’s just learnt new information. Which makes no sense, because even if Gladio knows very few details about him the fact he’s from Niflheim has to be one of them. It’s definitely come up before, Prompto thinks, and if not Noct will absolutely have told them. Before Noct found out where Prompto had _really_ come from he’d been so fascinated by the fact he’d grown up in Gralea.

“Wait. Is there no pizza at _all_ or just, like, no parlours to gorge in?” Eli asks suddenly.

“There’s pizza,” Prompto says, even if it had never been within his grasp, “It’s just expensive - like. People like me didn’t get to eat it.”

“You never had pizza before you got here?” Gladio asks quickly, incredulously.

Prompto shakes his head and admits, “I was so sick. I’d barely ever even eaten cheese before that -”

“Oh _man_ -” Eli groans.

“- and when I went to Noct’s for the first time and Iggy was prepping fresh veggies I just about lost my mind.”

Prompto remembers seeing all the _green_ stiff just lined up on the counter, a whole head of broccoli and bunches of fresh herbs. Prompto had only ever had dry crumbly seasonings before and the vibrant, living herbs had been a real sight to behold. And smell.

“There’s no _veggies_?” Eli checks.

“Well. Canned and frozen,” Prompto says, explaining how a whole nation of people haven’t dropped dead from scurvy or something, “We can’t really grow them because of all the snow so we import most of it. And then there is _some_ grown in greenhouses but again, that’s not something I would have had the pleasure of.

“Huh,” Gladio says low.

“Least you always have a white Solstice,” Eli points out, then muses, “Though I suppose that makes it less special.”

“I _hate_ snow,” Prompto mutters honestly, “It’s just an eternal grey slush in Gralea. It’s nothing like the pictures.”

Prompto never wants to see snow again. Just the idea of trudging endlessly through piles of frozen sludge and staring at an off white landscape for the rest of his life is enough to have his mood plummet.

“How are your oranges coming along?” Gladio asks suddenly, almost blurting the words out.

Prompto latches on to the conversation change, “Good. Well,” Prompto considers his _actual_ progress, “Better. Eli thinks I’m ready for skin soon.”

Eli had mentioned it casually, off hand, like he hadn’t wanted to spook Prompto. Prompto _had_ been a little spooked regardless, but Eli had promised he could wait as long as he wanted to try and they’d work out something if he never did.

“You can tattoo yourself at any time, kid, just as soon as you’re ready,” Eli reminds him again.

“I want a real one first,” Prompto admits, “Something I like.”

He watches Eli and Gladio both nod, his answer seemingly enough to put Gladio off from asking about _why_ he didn’t have one yet. Again. Which Prompto is grateful for.

-

Somehow Prompto ends up having dinner with Gladio.

Which is firmly on his list of _don’t do this_ rules but he does it anyway.

When Gladio asks him if he can leave work Prompto somehow misses the meat of the question and his brain leaps towards what he considers to be a forgone conclusion. Prompto even tries to convince Gladio to ditch the plans for food and just head back to his anyway but Gladio gently rebuffs him.

Prompto’s not particularly hurt by this rejection because it’s wrapped up in the knowledge Gladio wants _more_ time with him than he currently has available but other than that Prompto’s not sure how he feels about it.

They skirt some _tricky_ topics at dinner, Gladio accidentally bumbling them into a conversation about Niflheim again and being completely confused as to why Prompto has no desire to visit _home_ this holiday season.

That must be what it’s like to have a proper family, he supposes. Something you’re willing to travel half the world to see.

Prompto feels a little guilty for not just telling Gladio the truth, implying instead that his family is dead rather than non-existent and knowing that avoiding it like he is is tantamount to lying. But he’s just not ready for more people to know.

Gladio drives him home though and makes no immediate move shoo him away and head away again so when Gladio leans eagerly into the thank you kiss Prompto gives him Prompto takes the initiative to climb straight into his lap.

Gladio’s hands go straight for his ass, pretty much, fingers grasping and exploring, one of them leaving him momentarily to pet across Prompto’s chest. It’s needier than their kisses had been a few days ago when they’d both been under the impression it would lead to more but Prompto’s _full_ of energy now. Almost too much energy, wound tight like a spring ready to go off at any time.

Prompto strokes down Gladio’s arms, completely free of wrappings for once with a foreseeable future without them and the warm skin against Prompto's palms stirs something inside Prompto’s gut. It’s that _more_ feeling again but this time its more reasonably placed because Prompto recognises it as a desire for more of Gladio’s _body_ and not any of the stuff he hasn’t offered up to him.

Prompto tries to be subtle about it, sneak his hand under the hem of Gladio’s t-shirt but as soon as his fingertips brush firm abs Gladio’s gripping his hips and shifting Prompto back a little to create some space between him.

“Don’t go,” Prompto whines, writhing a little to try and get back at his mouth. Prompto tries to entice him by reminding him, “I still need to make something up to you.”

Gladio kisses him again, firm but chaste, a sweet little peck when he pulls away, “Next time. I’ve gotta go get Iris.”

 _Iris_.

Prompto stupidly tries to hop back, remembering the sealed envelope sat inside his apartment he’d forgotten that morning, but he somehow forgets exactly where he is and smacks his head sharply on the roof of the car.

Prompto’s eyes water immediately but he manages not to cry out in pain, just winces and folds in on himself a little.

Gladio makes a soothing noise, gently cradling Prompto's head so he can search through Prompto’s hair for an injury. He finds a tender spot, slightly raised, and Prompto kind of swoons when Gladio presses a kiss it it.

It hurts a little but it’s absolutely worth it.

“You okay?” Gladio asks him, helping him straighten up again.

“Wow,” Prompto says, “That was dumb.”

Gladio laughs so hard Prompto’s jostled slightly by the force of it and any embarrassment Prompto was feeling vanishes right along with it.

“I made Iris a card,” Prompto tells him and Gladio’s face goes all soft, “Wait two more seconds so I can grab it?”

Prompto had made it at Noct’s yesterday, drawing Iris a fun moogle design with a page torn from his sketchbook and cut down to size. Managing to create something pretty cool with the limited art supplies in his backpack. Ignis, of course, had managed to find an envelope of appropriate size somewhere in Noct’s apartment to make it truly complete. Prompto’s message inside the card is pretty generic because he's never actually _met_ Iris - he actually had to ask the others what would make sense because he just has no experience with this kind of thing.

Ignis had said it was very sweet and Noct had agreed a little belatedly, watching Prompto work with a slightly concerned look on his face.

“Of course,” Gladio says and Prompto beams, opening up the drivers side door and managing to climb off Gladio’s lap and onto the pavement in a not completely graceless move.

Gladio’s warm laughter follows after him.

\- - -

Prompto wakes up Monday morning and _basks_ in the knowledge he doesn’t _have_ to do _anything_ that day.

No school. No work.

Nothing.

He lays in bed for thirty minutes scrolling through his phone and then gets up and goes for his run.

Prompto’s almost done with it, enjoying the familiarity of running in the lower temperatures again, when he hears a sudden shout and something large and warm knock into his legs.

“Rudy! _No_!”

Prompto stumbles but manages to keep himself upright with some borderline embarrassing arm flailing. When he’s feeling secure again he turns just in time to see the dog - a huge ball of grey fluff - rearing around again hopping excitedly before him with it’s tail wagging and it’s tongue lolling.

“Hello, there,” Prompto says happy to be interrupted for _this_ reason. Prompto kneels down and the dog presses forwards to push it’s face into Prompto’s hands before he can really extend them.

Prompto laughs, scratching behind their ears as they lean happily into his touch.

“I’m so sorry,” someone says to Prompto’s left. He looks up to see a slightly harried looking man in a suit topped by a stylish coat peering down at him a little fearfully.

“It’s okay,” Prompto says easily, “No harm done.”

The man’s face clears a little.

“He didn’t hurt you?” he checks, “Sometimes I don’t think he realises how big he is.”

Prompto laughs, shaking his head and straightens up, keeping one hand rubbing the top of the dogs head.

“Barely touched me,” Prompto assures him.

The man holds up a lead and beckons towards his dog and Prompto decides to try and seize an opportunity presented to him.

“Hey, do you mind if I take a picture of them? They’re adorable.”

The man drops the lead down again, “Be my guest.”

All three of Prompto’s friends get a picture of that dog sent to their inbox. Gladio’s away on a training trip, Prompto knows, but it’ll give him something nice to look at when he’s on a break or something.

-

Prompto does a little batch cooking to use up some time and make the most of his grocery shopping but by two o’clock he’s essentially taken to lying on his couch with something he’s already seen playing on _Moogleflix_. Prompto has tonnes of stuff in his watch list but he’s just not in the _mood_ for any of it.

Really he’s just wasting time until Noct and Iggy are done at the Citadel, some pre-Solstice council meeting that even Ignis had admitted was almost entirely pointless and just a matter of tradition at this point.

Both of them had seemed entertained by the picture of Rudy that morning; Noct had sent a string of senseless emojis that Prompto had taken to mean he thought the dog was cute. Ignis had said as much in human words _and_ commended Prompto’s ability to capture the animal’s sense of movement while stopping the picture from being blurry.

Gladio never messaged back but Prompto’s trying not to read too much into it. Gladio’s out of the city, service is probably terrible and he’s _working_. Prompto doesn’t even think about it when he opens it up to message him again, just wanting to give Gladio something to read while he’s away without his friends.

Thinking of Gladio sparks an idea in Prompto though and suddenly he stands, with purpose in mind.

He should reorganise his _bookcase._

It doesn’t really take long, Prompto doesn’t have much and he makes sure to leave Gladio’s copy of _Fairest Knight_ apart from his other books. Prompto takes it over to the coffee table and -

He’s not really sure how he didn’t spot it before, too deep in the fog of finals he supposes, but waiting for him there is _another_ book. Title font familiar and oddly comforting.

Gladio must have left it for him. He must have bought it with him last time he was over, leaving it there for him after Prompto fell asleep on him.

It makes Prompto’s chest feel oddly tight to picture Gladio quietly leaving it there and sneaking out of his apartment so as not to wake him. Before he’d been almost _annoyed_ that Gladio had let him sleep on rather than waking him up after a nap, wondering why Gladio never thought to ask for what he’d been offered in Prompto’s invitation to his home.

But now he’s oddly touched.

 _Brightest Shine_ the book is called and Prompto abandons his half organised bookcase in favour of reading it.

-

Noct opens his apartment door, smiling despite the oddly tense line of his brow.

“’Sup?” he says.

Prompto shrugs, “Not much. How was the Citadel?”

“Boring _and_ annoying somehow,” Noct says, beelining back to his couch.

“There you are,” Ignis says once Prompto’s shed his shoes and coat to step into the apartment proper, “It’s not like you to be late.”

“I got distracted, sorry,” Prompto says sincerely.

“No worries,” Ignis says, “Are you hungry?”

Prompto forgot to eat but he only shrugs, “Noct said you were eating at the Citadel.”

Ignis looks at him for a long moment and then says, “I’ll fix you something.”

Prompto thanks him and steps towards the couch to sit with Noct. As he settles he checks his phone again. Six messages. He’s sent six messages to Gladio and they’ve all gone unanswered. Prompto knows he might just be busy but he also can’t help but think he’s maybe being ignored.

Prompto sends one more, just a simple thing, Gladio’s name and a few question marks, hoping the big guy will at least get back to him, even if its just to tell him to go away.

Maybe Gladio’s pleased to be away. Maybe he’s glad to be be able to avoid and ignore Prompto. He could use this as a good excuse to not message back and then just _ghost_ Prompto completely, stop arranging meet ups and just let things stagnate to an awkward friendship and -

That’ll be that.

Prompto really wishes he’d manages to stay awake the last time they met up. Perhaps that was the final nail in his coffin, so to speak, Gladio annoyed that an evening he _could_ have spent actually enjoying himself was instead spent acting as a glorified pillow.

Noct prods him lightly with his foot and Prompto raises his arms on instinct, letting Noct stretch his legs over Prompto’s lap.

“What’s wrong?” Noct asks.

“Huh? Nothing,” Prompto tries to tell him. Noct looks unconvinced.

“You look like you just got really bad news,” Noct points out.

“What? No. I’m fine. Being dumb,” Prompto promises.

Noct rolls his eyes, “Nothing that bothers you is dumb.”

Ignis appears at his side then, a plate and cutlery in his hands. He passes it to Prompto, who takes it and surveys it, a cold plate filled with salads and grilled meats. Prompto recognises Iggy’s pesto pasta salad but beside it is something he’s never seen before. It’s a pile of small white stuff that Prompto’s not ever seen before. It’s clearly seasoned with spices with finely cut vegetables laced through it.

“Cous cous,” Ignis says when Prompto turns his fork through it, “It’s a grain of sorts. I think you’ll like it but if you don’t please feel free to leave it.”

“It looks great,” Prompto assures him, eagerly scooping up a forkful and shoving it in his mouth.

It’s pretty _fucking_ great, as it turns out.

Ignis smiles at Prompto’s obvious enjoyment and steps back into the kitchen.

Noct clears his throat.

“Prom,” he nudges.

Prompto sighs and glances over the back of the couch at Ignis, making sure he’s thoroughly absorbed in whatever task he’s doing.

“Gladio’s not texting me back,” Prompto admits, voice low and hoping Noct will be able to put together why this bothers him without him having to _say_ it.

Noct frowns, “Gladio’s away.”

“I know,” Prompto says, “But I -”

“No, Prom,” Noct interrupts, “Gladio’s away and he’s not allowed his phone. He’s _not_ ignoring you, he just has no way of responding.”

“Oh,” Prompto says, “ _Oh_.”

Noct laughs, “Yeah. You big dummy. Gladio’s _not_ ditching you. _Trust_ me.”

Prompto rolls his eyes but shovels some more food towards his mouth one handed while he digs out his phone again.

He’s not sure _why_ he feels the need to let Gladio know he understands now, but he does. Maybe he doesn’t want Gladio to get back to his phone in a few days and think that he’d hurt Prompto’s feelings and feel bad about it.

Noct squints at him so hard Prompto can feel it.

“What?” he asks.

“Gladio left his phone with Iggy. You’ve probably be buzzing his pocket all day,” Noct teases.

Prompto’s eyes widen and he glances at Ignis again but he doesn’t seem to be bothered by the two messages that just flew in to the other phone in his possession. Prompto glances once at Noct who laughs and then keeping his eyes on Ignis sends off what he assures himself will be the _last_ message he sends Gladio’s way before he’s back from his trip - he’ll make himself wait for Gladio to reach out first, he promises himself.

Nothing.

Ignis doesn’t respond at all.

“Iggy,” Noct calls, “Are you taking messages for Gladio today?”

Ignis turns to look at them with one eyebrow raised and like a kid getting caught misbehaving Prompto twists back around to focus on his dinner.

“Gladio told me everyone knew he was away so wasn’t expecting anything that needed attending,” Ignis explains. He comes in to view then with drinks in hand, settling them on the coffee table before seating himself in Noct’s armchair.

“So why didn’t he just leave it in his office?” Noct asks.

“Crownsguard phones that potentially hold sensitive information aren’t allowed to be left unattended,” Ignis tells Noct.

Noct frowns, “What sensitive information does Gladio have?”

“Your schedule, for one,” Ignis points out, then half smirking he adds, “And _I_ took it in case there was any _sensitive_ information on there not suitable for his father’s eyes.”

Prompto goes red so fast it almost hurts, choking on the bit of pepper he just put in his mouth.

Ignis laughs but Noct groans, leaning back and throwing his arm over his face.

“Gross, dude,” Noct tells him.

Ignis sobers up a little and catches Prompto’s attention.

“Gladio’s immensely trustworthy but I hope you’re careful -”

“I am,” Prompto hurries to assure him, willing the redness from his cheeks, “I am. I wouldn’t send stuff to just anyone.”

Anyone else _at all_ , Prompto thinks to himself.

Noct groans again.

“Enough of that I think, before His Highness has an aneurysm.”

\- - -

Prompto’s still at Noct’s early Tuesday afternoon, having spent the night and then, per the prince’s request, not having worked his way home yet.

Noct’s looking over his course list for next semester and he suddenly sits up straight and says to no one in particular, “I should have done social studies this semester.”

“We decided not to overload your schedule with prerequisites, remember?” Ignis says.

“Yeah but this way I could have done it with Prompto,” Noct complains, “Now I have to do it alone.”

“You can have all my notes,” Prompto offers helpfully.

Ignis clears his throat and Prompto avoids looking at him.

“What ones have you got left - outside the art stuff?” Noct asks him.

“I have to do _a_ science and a literature - either Lucian or World.”

Noct perks up, “Me too. Lets pick the same classes.”

“Dude,” Prompto says, “ _Yes_.”

Ignis lends Prompto his laptop and together he and Noct sit side by side on the rug, computers balanced on the coffee table doing everything they can to make sure their schedules align.

“Biology?” Noct suggests, highlighting a class on his computer in a slot that neither of them currently have occupied.

“Sure,” Prompto agrees knowing whichever science they pick will likely be a struggle for him. It’s always been his weakest subject and he’s already low-key worried about it fucking up his degree. He’d been thinking to put it off until next year but maybe its smarter to get it over and done with.

“Why are you doing more art history?” Noct asks, knowing Prompto’s distaste for his _Solheim Arts_ course.

“Necessary credit,” Prompto says, “Also, art history post-Solheim might be more interesting.”

“More variety,” Ignis agrees.

“I don’t have anything I can take when you’re in photography on Wednesdays,” Noct complains.

“I hardly doubt you’ll be able to match _everything_ up,” Ignis points out calmly, “Nor are either of you to pick classes you don’t want to do to try and make sure you _can_.”

Noct sighs, but begrudgingly leaves his Wednesday morning’s free.

“Least I’m not in class right before work any more,” Prompto says, “That one class commute was _killing_ me.”

\- - -

Prompto has a late shift on Tuesday to which Ignis drives him from Noct’s apartment and then he works pretty much all day on Wednesday, closing up _Sakana_ with Erin and getting home feeling familiarly tired and all but collapsing into bed without doing more than taking out his contacts and brushing his teeth.

Prompto’s off again on Thursday and he lets himself sleep in for a while but is ultimately dragged out of bed by his growling stomach.

There’s a pile of letters by his door and Prompto gathers them up while his kettle boils, discarding the two circulars straight into the bin. Upon spying the _Insomnia University_ crest on one of the others he tears into it immediately.

Stupidly he thinks it might be a printed transcript of his exam results.

That’s not what it is.

Prompto has to read through the letter twice before he understands, panic rising in his chest with each word that computes inside his brain.

It doesn’t make any _sense._

Prompto set up a payment plan to cover the last of his rent, he did that just a few days ago. Ellen had said it was fine, that it was all sorted and he didn’t have to think about it any more.

_placement at risk …… necessary steps to …… organised by December 20th_

What’s the date _now_? How long does he have to sort something out? Why didn’t it work before?

_Student visa … null and void …… subject to usual immigration protocols_

Immigration.

Prompto got through immigration on a _student_ visa. If he’s not a student any more then what? He’s just not allowed here any more? He’ll get kicked out of his apartment, sure, but will the authorities come and round him up? Shove him back on a boat?

Will some of Noct’s Crownsguard be responsible for escorting his best friend out of his country?

Prompto picks up his phone with shaky hands, trying to get a look at the date but struggling to focus on what’s at hand.

 _Noct_ , he thinks, Noct will know what to do.

Prompto fumbles through the text, probably misspelling every word and making no sense but he sends it anyway, trying to remember the breathing technique that Noct had taught him. A deep breath in for a count and slowly release while counting again -

To five?

Or three? Is three enough?

Prompto’s barely making it to two but two out of three is better than two out of five -

There’s a sharp rap on his door and Prompto jerks up, not sure when he even folded over on himself like this in the first place.

Prompto manages to suck in a few lungfuls of air while he debates his next move, panic seemingly startled temporarily right out of him.

It's definitely temporary because Prompto can feel it fluttering about in his best.

Prompto doesn’t really want to answer it, not like he is now, but people so rarely knock on his door something tells him it must be important.

Prompto twists the lock and pulls it open a little, peering out carefully in case its something bad and he needs to slam it closed again.

It’s Gladio.

 _Gladio_.

Prompto can’t make his mouth work in order to say hello so he simply steps back and opens the door wider to beckon him inside with his hand.

There’s a tray of coffee in Gladio's hand and Prompto manages to register that there are _two_ drinks there in the time it takes him to get his mouth moving again.

“You’re back,” Prompto says roughly, voice a little hoarse. Gladio frowns a little and Prompto tries to gloss over the state he's in by quickly shifting up to kiss the corner of Gladio’s mouth.

“Did you guys come back last night?” Prompto asks, “Did you see my messages?”

Gladio shakes his head, “No. This morning.”

Prompto blinks. _What?_

“What - when?” he stutters.

Why is Gladio _here_ if he only just got back from outside the wall?

“About twenty minutes ago,” Gladio explains. He puts down the drinks tray and lifts one free, passing it over to Prompto. Prompto tries to take it but his hands are still trembling so violently he almost drops it straight on the ground. Gladio stops that from happening but a hot spurt of coffee slips out of the gap in the lid and scalds the back of Prompto’s fingers.

“Are you serious?” Prompto asks, not quite understanding how and why this can be true.

His fingers smart a little to he blows on them before popping the one which took the brunt of the spill into his mouth for a moment.

“As the plague,” Gladio tries to joke but he’s suddenly racked by an enormous yawn that seems to take over his whole body.

Prompto watches the flex of his arms as he stretches and without thinking blurts, “And you - you came straight here?”

Gladio nods, face unreadable.

“ _Why_?” Prompto asks.

Gladio shrugs and reaches for Prompto’s hand where it’s still hovering around his mouth. Carefully he inspects them for damage, thumb tracing the small red blemish on his forefinger before bringing it up to _his_ mouth for a gentle kiss.

And then Gladio twines their fingers together.

Prompto’s done a lot of stuff with Gladio, a lot of _intimate_ stuff.

But they’ve never held hands before.

It’s so stupid, so _dumb._ But this gesture has Prompto’s heart crashing against the side of his ribs and all his poorly buried feelings and emotions attempting to claw their way out of him once and for all.

Their hands are so different, Gladio’s huge and strong, covered in little marks from his dangerous job while Prompto’s look otherworldly pale by comparison, small and delicate in his grasp.

The hands of an artist cradled in those of a warrior.

Gladio’s face isn’t so unreadable any more but Prompto doesn’t feel any better about it, not when it looks like he’s in _pain_. Prompto touches his jaw with his free hand, making Gladio’s honey coloured eyes meet his own.

“Are you okay?” Prompto asks, demands really, “Did you get hurt?”

“No,” Gladio says and at first Prompto’s stomach drops, because Gladio’s _not_ okay and then Gladio says, “I just missed you.”

Prompto’s stomach does something else, freezes he thinks, with the shock of those words.

Gladio’s not supposed to say he _misses_ him, it’s not fair. Gladio’s not supposed to think about Prompto when he’s not there, that’s not what they _are_.

Prompto’s supposed to be the one putting feelings in to play that don’t belong there and Gladio’s not supposed to encourage him with words he doesn’t mean.

But -

What if?

What if Gladio _does_ mean them?

Is it possible? Can it be possible that despite everything Prompto’s ever seen or heard about Gladio that he could actually be _attached_ to him? Even knowing nothing could ever come of it?

Because that’s the crux of the matter really - no matter what Prompto wants and what Gladio might possibly want too they couldn’t ever _be_ together properly. _That’s_ why Gladio’s always had relationships like these, inconsequential casual affairs, because he’s not allowed to _chose_ this part of his life.

Prompto’s not a hundred percent sure he understands why but he knows its true.

Still, despite all of this, Prompto finds himself smiling. Even if nothing can ever come of it just _knowing_ that Gladio could possibly return some of his feelings is enough to fill him with elation.

Prompto drops Gladio’s hand and moves forward to hug him properly, wrapping his arms around Gladio’s waist and pressing his face into his broad chest. Gladio hugs him back, one strong arm around his shoulders and the other passing gently through his hair.

It’s been so much already this morning and Prompto feels like he might just shake apart in Gladio’s hold.

“Are _you_ okay?” Gladio asks, smoothing a hand over Prompto’s shoulders and holding him a little tighter.

Prompto doesn’t want to put all of his negative feelings onto Gladio so he just closes his eyes and admits, “I’m glad your back.”

Gladio holds him for a long moment, just seemingly fine to exist like this but after some time has passed he sighs.

“I have to get back to the Citadel,” he says apologetically, “But can I see you tonight?”

Prompto pulls back so he can look up at Gladio’s face again, “Sure. I’m not working or anything and Noct’s at the Citadel so you can come over whenever.”

Gladio shakes his head a little and catches his eye properly, holding it stead as he explains, “I wanna take you out, I’ll pick you up when I get off work.”

Prompto feels his mouth pop open in surprise, shocked that Gladio would make a request so fervently. It goes against his rules, of course, but Prompto doesn’t seem to be able to stick to them as far as Gladio is concerned.

And maybe, if Gladio’s in the same boat as him, its okay to indulge a little. Let himself live in the fantasy just for a minute.

Gladio cups his face with one hand, tracing his lips with his thumb and it’s all too easy to give in.

Stuttering, Prompto manages, “I - yeah that sounds -”

The national chocobo theme tune interrupts his poor attempt at eloquence and Prompto startles a little.

Gladio laughs and reaches for Prompto's phone where it’s buzzing against the letter Prompto had left discarded on the counter, using his longer arms to his advantage.

“It’s Noct,” Gladio says and Prompto has no choice but to take it.

“Yeah. I probably scared him,” Prompto admits, embarrassed that he got all worked up and can’t even remember what he did at the time, “I sent him a message - I wasn’t -”

Prompto cuts himself off and connects the call before it has a chance to ring off.

“Hey.”

“ _Are you okay?_ ” Noct’s voice says at once, “ _Did something happen?_ ”

“No - I’m fine now,” Prompto tries to reassure him, “I promise. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“ _Of course I’m worried. It seemed like - you were panicking again weren’t you? Did something happen or was it just out of no where? Did you try the breathing method I showed you. It really works but you’ve gotta practice it.”_

Gladio starts to gently stroke Prompto’s hair again as Noct talks to him and its probably the only reason Prompto manages to keep his voice steady.

“Yeah, I tried the breathing stuff. I think it was working but I got - I got distracted,” Prompto explains.

Noct laughs softly in his ear, “ _Yeah, something surprising happening was always effective at knocking me out of it, too._ ”

Prompto laughs too, “Super affective yeah -”

“ _I’m gonna try and come over_ -”

“No, no. I know you’re busy,” Prompto argues.

Noct sighs, “ _Maybe you can come here?_ ”

“I’m not allowed in the Citadel yet - ”

“ _I don’t want you so sit their stressing about something, especially if I could fix it_.”

Noct doesn’t know he’s doing it of course but there he is, offering Prompto money again.

“No it was dumb. Getting worked up over nothing,” Prompto says and then adds, more honestly, “Or, nothing that matters _now_ anyway.”

Prompto realises _now_ he needs to check in with Ellen before he gives up all hope. Maybe there’s still something Prompto can do. And if Ellen isn't available he'll just have to suck it up and call the University administration number.

“ _Of course it matters!_ ” Noct almost yells. Prompto rolls his eyes at Gladio, to let him know Noct’s being a drama queen. “ _You always do this. Just let me -_ ” Noct groans and then he can hear another voice in the background, Ignis he thinks, “ _\- Iggy says we’re coming over later. You don’t need to do anything, we’ll bring food and you can be_ honest _about what’s bothering you_.”

“Lunch?” Prompto checks, thinking that’s actually _exactly_ what he needs to feel better, just some time with the people that matter to him, “Sure, of course -”

“ _You didn’t really have a choice,_ ” Noct teases.

“Ah, man thank Iggy for me.”

“ _I will. We’ll be over at about one. Depends when these old dudes manage to shut up_.”

Prompto definitely hears Ignis hissing the prince’s name but Noct starts to hurriedly bid him a farewell over the noise of it.

“Bye!” Prompto says hastily before he can get hung up on.

Prompto clicks his phone off and tosses it onto the counter. It’s only then that he realises Gladio said he needs to go but he’s actually still _here_.

“What was bothering you?” Gladio asks gently.

Prompto tries to play it off, shrugging and avoiding Gladio’s gaze but Gladio gently grasps his chin and turns Prompto to look at him dead on.

“Prom?”

“You don’t have to deal with this,” Prompto says quickly, “I know its not what you signed up for.”

He wants Gladio to think he’s _fun_. To not really know just how messed up he is sometimes.

Gladio shakes his head, looking oddly fierce, “I _want_ to - besides, we’re friends, yeah, ignoring everything else.”

Yes, Prompto thinks, _friends_.

If he can let Noct in, let Ignis in too, then maybe he can try and let Gladio see some of this part of his life.

Gladio’s been in Prompto’s apartment so it’s not like he doesn’t know Prompto is _poor_.

Prompto takes one look at the letter on his counter and tries to chose his words carefully.

“I was just money stuff - and school,” Prompto says, words stilted. And then like his brain has just been _waiting_ for a moment to show him another horrible thought, “Then I realised I’m just on a student visa and I might have to go back to Gralea at the end of next semester while school is out and I don’t want to - I can’t,” Prompto’s breath catches and he feels his body start to shake apart once more, “But they’ll _make_ me -”

Gladio shushes him, pulling him gently into his arms again, “Hey, hey. Don’t worry about that, okay. No ones gonna send you back there.”

Gladio sounds so certain but there’s no way he can actually know that for sure.

“But they _will_ -”

Gladio interrupts him firmly, “Iggy can get your visa changed.”

Prompto never would have thought of that. Never would have thought to _ask_ for something like that because it falls too close to getting favours from Noct and taking advantage of him. But then, how good of a friend can Prompto be from across the world?

“Seriously?” Prompto asks meekly.

“I’ll talk to him about it today,” Gladio promises casually like it’s _nothing_.

Prompto pushes up onto his tip toes to kiss him, trying to express his gratitude without words because he doesn’t feel able to make any. It’s nothing how he normally likes to kiss Gladio, no hint of finesse in any of the movements but Gladio kisses him back, matching each press with one of his own.

Prompto only stops kissing him when breathing becomes a necessity and makes sure to kiss Gladio’s chin affectionately as he falls back onto his feet.

“Thank you,” Prompto manages then, stepping in for another hug.

He wants to linger here longer, all day if possible, but he knows Gladio really has to be leaving soon so he pulls back and pats Gladio’s chest with his hand, keeping the arm up so he doesn’t just close the distance between them again.

“You gotta get to work, huh?” he says as casually as he can.

“You gonna be okay?” Gladio checks, rather than confirming anything, “I don’t wanna leave you if -”

“I’m good,” Prompto promises, “I’m gonna go for a run and now I have a lunch _and_ a dinner date to look forward to.”

Date is probably the wrong word but Gladio doesn’t mention it. Maybe because Prompto’s implying the word applies to his time with Noct too.

Prompto actually smiles, feeling better about today than he would have thought possible half an hour ago.

Gladio grins too and leans in for one last kiss before he goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve really been aboard the struggle bus for the last little while and I feel like I’m not up to the standards I try and set for myself. I’m sorry. Hopefully things will look up soon. I’m working on another chapter of this before anything else though so you guys won’t be waiting as long this time, promise.  
> No one ever asked but I chose to make Prompto bad at science because the guy he’s cloned from in canon is a scientist and that’s really fun to me for some reason. When it comes to the status of Prompto as a clone in this it’s important to remember that Prompto is relying on information he managed to dig up on a library computer when he was fifteen ;)


	7. Fruition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't always get what you want.  
> But sometimes you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would have been ready sooner but I decided I had to rewrite this opening bit completely. Twice. Is it better than the first time? Yes. Enough to be worth the whole extra day of writing and hours of editing? Probably not. I could not get a handle on Noct - I still haven't really but this is the best I can do right now and give you this content this month.
> 
> For time line clarification here - this lunch takes place after after Noct has spoken to his dad about succession for nobles/royals even though nothing has been set in stone yet and after Gladio has spoken to Ignis about his feelings for Prompto but before Gladio and Noct talk in the Citadel about how his and Prompto’s date this evening. Ignis had neither the time nor inclination to fill Noct in on his chat with Gladio’s that morning Iggy believes in privacy. Noct at least suspects, obviously, since he found out about how often the two of them talk. Hopefully that explains his complete turnaround regarding their relationship. He just wants his friends to be happy.

Prompto runs.

He runs for a _long_ time.

He doesn’t think about the letter sat on his coffee table or the hastily, probably misspelled, email he’d sent to Ellen, asking for _answers_ as succinctly as he can.

Prompto runs and relies on the pounding of his geed against the pavement to drown everything out even though it takes a long time for the little whisper in the back of his mind telling him _everything_ might be coming to an end to really quiet down.

Instead he thinks about Gladio’s soft words and strong arms. The way he’d kissed him so gently this morning, lingered in his doorway like he was wavering on his decision to leave Prompto alone.

It can’t mean _much_ , Prompto knows. But it might mean something.

-

Prompto only makes it back to his apartment about forty-five minutes before Noct and Iggy are supposed to show up and he hastily showers, ignoring his growling stomach in favour of not actually smelling someone that just ran for the better part of two hours.

Besides, Iggy is bringing food, it’d be rude to eat right before he turns up.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Ignis says when Prompto opens the door for them, with a towel still draped around his shoulders.

“Starved,” Prompto admits.

Ignis has got a cooler in one hand and Prompto is _beyond_ ready for whatever Ignis has in store for them. Noct all but barges past Ignis to get to Prompto’s kitchen and drop the bulky bag he’s carrying on the counter - it clatters alarmingly and Prompto has a brief moment of concern that the prince just broke whatever was inside it.

Prompto wants to watch Ignis cook, pick up some more tips but Noct’s suddenly right in his space, both hands on his shoulders and turning Prompto bodily towards him.

Prompto eyes Noct’s just-short-of-panic expression and with meek amusement says, “Hi.”

Noct shakes him, just a tiny bit, and looks like he’s fighting a smile.

“Don’t _‘hi’_ me,” Noct says, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m fine now,” Prompto says. And it’s mostly true, sure, he’ll be _thinking_ about Ellen’s response until the second he gets it but with other things to focus on he’ll get there.

Noct rolls his eyes. Prompto hears Ignis _sigh_.

“Okay,” Noct says and his tone is obviously _careful_ , he glances once at his adviser and asks, “What was wrong before?”

Prompto exhales a long breath and glances at the letter. Noct follows his eyes and frowns.

“It’s from school,” Prompto murmurs, “You can read it - I think. I think I messed up somehow. With money. Even though I have the money. And now - it’s supposed to happen automatically. I don’t - I don’t know what went wrong. And I - I _have_ to be a student - or I - I _can’t_ go back - ”

“ _Prompto_ ,” Ignis says sharply and it’s only then that Prompto realises Noct’s been shaking him again, grip on his shoulder just shy of painful.

“Breathe please,” Ignis says more gently. He steps around the two of them to pick up the letter, brushing his hand over Prompto’s hair as he passes.

“Hey,” Noct says, “Whatever it is we’ll fix it. Breathe. Like I taught you. In for three -”

Noct breathes with him, showing him the rhythm and the motions. Prompto feels the new well of panic subside slightly every time his lungs fill.

“Better,” Ignis says, looking up from the letter, “ _This_ we’ll discuss in a moment, but Prompto. Please listen to me. Believe me when I say you _will not_ be getting deported.”

“ _What_?” Noct almost yelps, finally releasing Prompto so he can snatch the letter from Ignis’ hands.

Prompto looks helplessly at Ignis while Noct starts reading - easier to look at Ignis' carefully neutral expression than pay attention to the way Noct mouths words as he reads.

“Null and void?” Prompto hears Noct mumble.

“Prompto.” Ignis says, “Lucis _rarely_ deports people at all and only when they do something truly terrible and it’s unsafe for them to remain here.”

“Really?” Prompto says - squeaks, more like.

“Failing to make a payment _on time_ to university is not a good enough reason,” Ignis assures him, “And nor will you be asked to leave when your student visa expires. We will need to _adjust_ the terms of your stay, however.”

“How do I - ?”

“I’ll take care of it for you. If you’ll allow me,” Ignis says.

“You should,” Noct puts in, “It _sounds_ like paperwork and that’s boring so naturally Iggy is really good at it.”

“Won’t that take you a lot of time? And you’re so busy…”

“Will be no trouble,” Ignis, neatly sidestepping Prompto’s concern, “As Noctis said I _am_ rather good at it.”

Prompto smiles, properly, for the first time since Gladio left this morning.

Noct flaps Prompto’s letter, frowning at Ignis.

“How did you _know_ about this?” Noct looks at Prompto briefly, and it’s easy to spot the hurt there. Like he thinks Prompto went to Ignis instead of him, is hiding things from him.

“Gladio came to see me this morning,” Ignis says simply, to Prompto he asks, “Can I use your kitchen to make us lunch?”

Noct’s frown etches deeper.

“Knock yourself out,” Prompto says, “I don’t have much, sorry.”

“I bought anything I suspected you didn’t have,” Ignis explains.

Noct looks between Ignis and Prompto before making some odd sort of strangled noise Prompto’s never heard from him before.

“I have, like, _several_ questions,” Noct says after a moment.

“Shoot,” Prompto says.

“I wanna loop around to the Gladio thing,” Noct says, almost painfully serious, “But first -” Noct punches Prompto lightly in the shoulder, “ _Prom_ , how come you never mentioned you were worried about this to me?”

“I didn’t really know I was,” Prompto says, “Until I got that letter.”

Noct’s expression softens as the sound of Ignis unpacking things peters out and the sound of chopping begins. Prompto glances over and spots a neat stack of bowls - three - with full sets of cutlery to match. Prompto flushes with embarrassment but is also glad Ignis had the foresight to bring them. Prompto only has two bowls and two - and a half - sets of utensils.

“How did - does Gladio know?” Noct asks.

For some reason Prompto feels himself wilt, shoulders slumping the whole shebang. He closes the two steps between himself and the couch and sinks into it. Noct follows, sitting close by his side.

“Gladio came to see me this morning,” Prompto tells him, picking at a fraying edge of an artful rip in his jeans.

Noct hesitates, “Okay.”

“It’s what distracted me from my - um, y’know,” Prompto bumbles.

“Your panic attack,” Noct says calmly. Noct _likes_ to say it like that, like its not a big deal, like it’s normal. Prompto can’t say he feels the same way but then back in Niflheim his propensity for anxiety and panic had been seen as an annoying weakness not a thing to simply manage and control.

“Yeah,” Prompto says whisper quiet.

Prompto hears his stove light and the clank of a pan being set onto it. There’s no doubt Ignis _can_ hear them but he seems to be pretending otherwise, giving them the best approximation of privacy he can in Prompto’s studio apartment.

“What did Gladio want?” Noct asks tone carefully casual.

“I don’t know,” Prompto says quickly, “Noct - I’m really not in the mood to fight with you about -”

“No, no,” Noct says quickly, “I’m just interested in what happened. No fighting, I promise.”

Prompto exhales, relieved.

Noct smiles but there’s a weird look in his eye.

“Are you okay?” Prompto asks.

“I’m great,” Noct says quickly, “Fantastic. So, um - Gladio. What did he say this morning? When he was here. Apparently.”

Prompto’s used to both of Noct’s speeds - a thousand words a minute or his more common stoicism - but this weird stilted pattern is so far removed from the norm that Prompto simply stares at him for a long moment.

“Prom?” Noct urges eagerly.

“He, uh - said that he wanted to take me out later,” Prompto says. And that he's _missed_ him, but Prompto keeps that to himself so he doesn't come across like a lovesick fool.

Prompto had tried to focus on _that_ rather than the status of his college degree but the more he’d thought about it the more he’d gotten confused.

Gladio doesn’t _mean_ it right?

Not like Prompto would like him to mean it.

Gladio just has this weird taking care of people thing that he does, probably all tied up in his job just like it is for Ignis. Ignis brings Prompto food and buys him stuff and makes sure he’s looked after and _Ignis_ doesn’t want to date him.

Why would Gladio be any different?

This is just what friendships are like, he’s sure.

Except.

Noct looks _furious_.

“He did _what_? What exactly did he say?”

Noct’s seething and Prompto can’t really understand why.

Noct looks between Prompto and Ignis, looks at Prompto for a long time and when he gets no response says, “He can’t just mess you around like that.”

“Noctis,” Ignis says calmly.

Noct turns the full force of his glare on Ignis and they do that _thing_ they do sometimes where they have full conversations without words. Born, he’s sure, from a need in Ignis to be able to communicate privately with Noctis on a personal level in a room full of strangers. Prompto had thought he was getting pretty good at keeping up, at least being able to follow the theme of the conversation but today he has no idea.

“I think you may not be aware of all recent developments,” Ignis says after a while, “Some are _quite_ recent.”

Noct's eyebrows raise and then he glances at Prompto. He looks back at Ignis and starts to smile, “Yeah?”

Ignis tilts his head in a nod.

“Huh. So this is - this is good news,” Noct says focusing on Prompto once more, “How come you don’t look happy?”

“It’s just - it doesn’t _mean_ anything,” Prompto says. Prompto leans forwards so he can rest his elbow on his knees and press the palms of his hands to his eyes, exerting enough force that his vision starts to blur, red spots behind hie eyes.

“Why _not_?”

“Because it _can’t_ can it,” Prompto says miserably.

Noct touches his shoulder gently, briefly.

“Prom,” he says, “I need some more words.”

“Well it’s like -” Prompto forces himself to sit up again but avoids their gazes, “Even if Gladio _somehow_ had feelings for a nobody like me -”

“ _Prompto_ ,” Noct seethes. Ignis goes completely silent in the kitchen for a few seconds before the sound of stirring resumes.

“Even if he did, which I really doubt he actually _does…_ It’s not - he’s not allowed, right?” Prompto shakes his head.

It’s not _fair_. None of it is fair.

“I might have had all sorts of shit done to me as a kid but unfortunately they didn’t give me a way to carry children,” Prompto barrels on because if anything he’s probably _sterile_ when you consider the exact way in which he was made, “So Gladio wouldn’t even be allowed to be with me even if he _wanted_ because I’m _useless_.”

“ _Prompto_.”

That’s Noct _and_ Iggy scolding him. Prompto doesn’t care though. There’s nothing they could possibly say to erase these irrefutable facts.

Gladio has the casual relationships he has because he has a duty to produce an heir. An heir with a specific type of woman who he’ll be told to marry in the not too distant future. What more can Prompto be to him that what he is now?

“Prompto,” Ignis says, more gently this time.

“Gladio’s an idiot, you know that?” Noct says, sounding both angry and a little amused.

Prompto frowns at him. Gladio’s a lot of things but an idiot is not one of them.

“It’s not as cut and dry as Gladio thinks it is – as _you_ think it is,” Ignis cuts in, “He’s not actually an idiot -” Noct scoffs “- just very stubborn when he gets an idea in his head.”

Prompto sighs.

“It doesn’t matter,” Prompto says miserably, “He doesn’t want to be with me anyway -”

“Says _who_?” Noct says.

Prompto’s helplessly confused. Noct’s never been _supportive_ of his dalliance with Gladio, tolerant is a better word. But now it seems like he’s upset that thinks can’t progress further than this. Maybe it’s because he knows how Prompto feels and wants him to be happy but to push something that can just never -

Hadn’t it been Noct that told him he had to end it before Prompto got hurt?

Prompto stands, pacing the narrow gap between his couch and his coffee table. Noct tucks his legs up onto the couch.

“It’s not like I’m the only one he’s seeing,” Prompto says. He has no proof of this, of course, other than a gut feeling that someone like Gladio could never be content with only what _Prompto_ has to offer, “And he never _stays_ , he just goes home afterwards and it doesn’t bother him. Plus. Y’know, he’s _said_ as much. _So many_ times we’ve had the conversation about what we are - like he, like he _knows_ I need reminding because I get dumb.”

Prompto takes in a deep breath and tries not to _feel_ how intensely his friends are looking at him.

Whatever Iggy is cookimg smells good, at least, and Prompto focuses in on that instead with a stubborn, blind determination.

“Do you need some help, Iggy?” Prompto asks him.

“I’m quite alright, thank you,” Ignis says, even as he’s taking the lid off a container and emptying its contents - a thick red sauce - over the meat sizzling in Prompto’s pan. Immediately the waft of spices reaches Prompto’s nose and his stomach gurgles eagerly.

Noct grabs his wrist as Prompto moves past him - still pacing, Prompto realises. Prompto goes in the direction of the tug, settling back beside Noct on the couch.

“What do you mean that he never ‘stays’?” Noct asks, genuinely confused.

“After we’re, y’know, together, he just goes home straight after,” Prompto explains awkwardly.

“That -” Noct makes a face, like the idea is _painful_ to him, “I know I have zero experience here, but that feels like it would be - not nice.”

Noct glances at Ignis like he’ll looking for confirmation. Ignis tilts his head and makes a half shrug.

“It’s common in relationships with no commitment,” Ignis says carefully, “Sleeping in the same bed is particularly intimate -”

“Because having your dick inside someone is super impersonal,” Noct cuts in.

Ignis fixes him with one of his looks but Prompto snorts.

“You don’t like it,” Noct tells Prompto, not asking.

Prompto shrugs. He doesn’t _really_ like being alone ever, even if he’s used to it.

“Everything will seem better on a full stomach,” Ignis says and Prompto looks up to realise he’s ladling the meat and sauce over mounds of fluffy rice, piles of green vegetables off to one side.

Noct scrunches his nose at all that green when he takes his bowl, but doesn’t outwardly comment on it.

Prompto settles on the floor with his food, despite Iggy’s protests, so the other two can sit comfortably on the couch together. Prompto has no idea _what_ this food is but it’s spicy and sour and just a little sweet and one of the best things he’s ever tasted.

He tells Ignis as much.

“Good job there are plenty of leftovers then,” Ignis says, then idly he says, “It should freeze well too.”

Prompto beams at him.

When the bowls are scraped clean, Noct raids Prompto’s stash of soda and makes Iggy the best coffee he can manage with Prompto’s supplies. It’s both a thank you, Prompto thinks, for the meal and an apology for scraping half his veggies into Prompto’s bowl. Prompto thinks Noct’s nuts, with the sauce it’s impossible to even _taste_ the vegetables.

“I hate to dampen your good mood,” Ignis says, coffee half done.

“You guys have to go soon?” Prompto suspects. They _have_ been here a while now, and he knows that Ignis had probably had to rearrange things at the Citadel to make time for him.

“Soon. But also. We never got round to discussing your financial issue,” Ignis says.

Noct sits forward.

“Oh,” Prompto says amazed that he’d actually managed to forget for a little while.

Noct opens his mouth -

“Don’t,” Prompto begs, “Don’t offer.”

Noct deflates.

“I don’t think its a matter of you not _having_ the money, Prompto, as you said, it’s there,” Ignis reminds them, “I think its simply a clerical error.”

“A - what?”

“Did you notice the date on the letter?” Ignis asks.

Prompto shakes his head and reaches for it, taking in the short line of numbers after his address.

Oh.

That was -

“Ten days ago?”

Ignis hums. “I suspect the letter was sent before you arranged your payment,” Ignis says, “And another letter will soon follow. Unfortunately the postal service in Insomnia is rather _dire_ this time of year.”

 _Oh_.

That’s -

Hopefully Ignis is right. Prompto wants him to be right.

“Did you try and speak to your adviser lady person?” Noct asks.

Prompto barely buries a snort at Noct’s terminology.

“I emailed Ellen, yeah. But I don’t know if she’s done for the holidays or something.”

Ignis smiles reassuringly, “Can you try not to worry about it? For a few days at least, to give everything time to process?”

Every part of Prompto is unanimously _bad_ at not worrying, even when there’s even less to worry about than there is now.

“I can _try_ ,” he offers.

“You’ve got a nice date to think about today,” Noct says, “That should keep your mind off it for a while.”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “It’s not even a date, really.”

“You don’t know that,” Noct says.

“Neither do you,” Prompto retorts.

Ignis clears his throat before it can dissolve into out and out bickering. Not that they ever would really, Prompto thinks. They’d burst into laughter way before then.

“Ignis agrees with me,” Noct says, “Iggy knows I’m right - that Gladio _likes_ you.”

The two of them share a look that Prompto can tell says a lot of words even if _he_ has no idea what any of them are.

“How Gladio feels about Prompto is Gladio’s own business,” Ignis says after a while.

Noct glares at him.

“Well I know how Prompto feels,” Noct says, “And I think he should tell Gladio.”

Prompto blanches. Actually feels a little sick at the thought.

“ _No_ ,” Prompto hisses, too out of sorts to even realise that maybe he should have denied everything in front of Ignis. Even though this all feels a little beyond that now.

“Why?” Noct asks, “What have you got to lose?”

Gladio, he thinks, he’ll lose Gladio.

He’ll lose what little part of Gladio’s life he’s allowed now.

“It’s like that dumb pizza talk you tried on me,” Noct says.

Ignis looks surprised. Maybe hearing Noct say pizza and dumb in the same sentence has never happened before.

“Say you and Gladio are right - you’re not, but say you are - so you guys can’t be together forever because babies,” Noct says, gesturing with his hands, “Then you should tell Gladio and you two can be together _until_ that time comes. Its like you said, having _more_ of the thing you like before it goes away. Not less.”

Prompto was surprised when his analogy worked on Noct so it’s no surprise it has zero effect on Prompto himself.

Not to mention this a complete turnaround on what Noct had been telling him just a few days ago.

Prompto's lost the ability to keep up with Noct's opinions, it seems.

“But that’s not what Gladio _wants_ ,” Prompto reminds him.

“Gladio _probably_ wants you to be honest,” Noct mutters, “I know _I’d_ want you to be honest.”

 _That’s_ actually a fair point.

Prompto is being _dishonest_. He’s never really thought of it that way.

Mostly he’s kept his feelings to himself to spare _himself_. But Gladio has a right to know, doesn’t he? Prompto would want to know, if the roles were reversed. He’d want to know if interactions between him and the person he was with meant something else to them.

He thinks about the times he _has_ been hurt when his feelings developed only to discover the other person wasn’t interested. That’s precisely what’s happened now of course but at least he’d known it was for nothing. Somehow that had made it hurt less.

Not a rejection. Just a disappointment.

He wouldn’t want to be responsible for making someone feel like that. Even if he didn’t know he was doing it.

Gladio has a right to know. If they’re going to carry on this thing between them.

“I’ll think about it,” Prompto murmurs even though he still feels unsure about it.

“You will?” Noct asks, looking ridiculously happy.

Prompto nods and then suddenly Noct has flung himself off the couch to hug him. It leaves the prince awkwardly splayed across his lap but Prompto attempts to embrace him back as best he can even though he has no idea _why_ this is happening.

“I think this is a really good idea,” Noct says low, close to his ear, “It’s gonna work out. I know it.”

Prompto manages to smile when Noct pulls away. It’s hard, really, to be _that_ worried when Noct looks so happy and confident with what he’s saying.

Ignis too, looks unconcerned. Pleased maybe. Definitely a little indulgent.

So yeah, maybe Prompto will _try_ to tell Gladio how he feels.

Maybe.

-

From: Ellen Worth (e.worth@insomniauniversity.edu)

To: Prompto Argentum (p.argentum@insomniauniversity.edu)

02/12/756 15:21

Hi Prompto,

Let me assure you that everything we arranged it in place

and ready to go. The letter was sent automatically on an

automated system before our meeting and has since been

overwritten by the actions we took. I’m sorry that it

reached you like this and gave you cause to worry but your

place here is perfectly secure and you have nothing to worry

about.

I’ve attached a copy of the letter updating you to this so

you don’t have to wait for IMS to get it to you.

Sorry again. Enjoy your Solstice and don’t hesitate to email

again if you have any more questions.

Ellen :)

Prompto takes a screenshot of the message and send it to both Ignis _and_ Noct on the off chance they’re not together right now. It’s a very small chance but a chance nonetheless.

[Prompto 15:40] you were right.

He sends to Ignis.

[Prompto 15:41] Ignis was right.

He sends to Noct.

[Ignis 15:44] Glad to hear it.

[Noct 15:44] sometimes thats really annoying. today its okay

-

It’s not a date.

Prompto keeps telling himself that.

But -

Prompto lays out all of his jeans on his bed and looks them over. Then adds all his nice tops as well, laying them above the jeans he thinks they’ll look best with.

He ends up with pair of jeans Noct had given him a few weeks back, seeming a little forlorn to part with them but lamenting their future life of being stuck forever in his wardrobe or being horribly altered. Ignis hadn’t _forbidden_ him from wearing them - because _technically_ he doesn’t have that authority - but Noct had said it was heavily implied.

They’re a bit more ripped than he’d usually wear but it’s not like his whole thigh would be bare. Prompto had taken them gratefully with a promise to show them a real good time. Prompto _thinks_ Noct had wanted him to wear them in front of Ignis and he makes a mental note to do that soon. But Gladio will get to enjoy them first.

Eventually he decides on a thin but warm sweater he’d gotten a little while ago at the mall with Noct. It was outside his normal price range but half off and he’d given in and bought it mostly because he’d spent so long touching the soft fabric Noct was likely to get it for him if Prompto didn’t buy it himself. It had languished in a drawer since then, too nice for _normal_ wear and subsequently putting it on to see Gladio _before_ now would have been making a statement he wasn’t willing to make.

Even if only _he_ understood what it meant.

It probably should stay that way now, as far as Prompto’s concerned but he imagines the sweater as just a pile of money in his drawer and it seems a shame to continue ignoring it.

Prompto even takes a minute to clean his boots before he does his hair, just trying to delay the inevitable where he’s completely ready an hour before Gladio gets there.

He’s only ready forty-five minutes early in the end, even though he spends twice as long on his hair than normal.

He doesn’t really know _why_ he’s doing this, it makes little sense.

Gladio already knows what he looks like. Gladio won’t _care_.

For all Prompto knows they’ll go out for like half an hour and then be back at his with his carefully planned outfit on the floor.

Maybe he misunderstood completely and they won’t go out at all. Prompto getting dressed simply to get _un_ dressed again.

Forty-five minutes is a long time - if you’re Prompto - to be left alone with your thoughts and by the time Gladio actually knocks on his door he’s half convinced Gladio’s not coming at all, jumping at the sudden noise.

Prompto opens the door and then his mouth to say hello but any greeting he might have given is swallowed up by Gladio’s kiss.

It lingers, toe curling intense and deep.

Prompto sighs a little, fighting to keep both feet on the ground rather than kick one up behind him like a teenage girl in a movie.

“You look amazing,” Gladio tells him, voice a little rough.

And, well -

All of the fussing was suddenly worth it.

Prompto grins and bites his lip, cheeks going warm all at once.

“I stole these jeans from Noct,” Prompto tells him, “Ignis wanted to sew up all the tears.”

Gladio smiles too, “And he calls _me_ a menace.”

Prompto laughs brightly, a bubbling sense of relief inside him that Gladio is _here_ and he’s not bustling them immediately back inside.

Hopeful, but shy, he reaches for Gladio’s hand, placing his hand into uncertainly in case Gladio’s not up for _hand holding_.

Prompto feels childish but he has to suppress happy giggles when Gladio presses their palms against one another and twists their fingers together.

“So are we going somewhere?” Prompto asks instead of _where are we going?_ just in case.

Gladio’s smile pulls wider, “I said we were. Have you been down to the harbour yet?”

Prompto nods. He’s only been down the once and he’d turned it into work but it’s _beautiful_.

“I went down to take picture for class,” Prompto tells him, “There’s some cool architecture there - and obviously the water’s pretty.”

“Ah, so you’ve probably seen the Royal Theatre before,” Gladio says. Prompto thinks he might be a little disappointed but certainly not annoyed, “Grab your coat, its cold out.”

Prompto has to drop Gladio's hand to follow the suggestion but the breeze blowing through his open door _is_ chilly. He shrugs into the lighter of his jackets and then meets Gladio at the door again, slipping his hand back into Gladio’s.

“I actually submitted a shot of it in my portfolio,” Prompto says, picking up the thread of their conversation, “I managed to get there for sunset and I got a wicked shot of it going down behind the uh - whichever of the King’s it is.”

Gladio squeezes his fingers and tells him, “I think its a Queen actually.”

Gladio waits patiently while Prompto locks up - which involves an involved process of pulling the handle up and then back down again and pushing on the door to check the bolt slid into place.

It's probably a super easy lock to bust, Prompto's glad he doesn't have much to steal.

At the car Gladio keeps hold of his hand until he’s got the car door open and then gently ushers him into it. Prompto doesn’t swoon at the sweet gesture because he’s immediately sat down after but it’s a close call.

Maybe it _is_ a date.

Its not quite like the other times they’ve gone out before. Gladio’s never been _inattentive_ but this is something else altogether.

“What are we doing at the Theatre?” Prompto asks. Gladio had asked about the harbour, which Prompto knows is full of food stalls and lined with restaurants but he’d specifically mentioned the theatre.

“They’re showing _Solarium_ -”

Prompto _gasps_ , “Holy shit, no way.”

Gladio chuckles, “They’ve got a whole lot of Gralean stuff there at the moment. There’s a gallery and everything but I don’t think it’ll be open this evening,” Gladio explains, words tinged with the hint of an apology, “If you want to come back and look at it another day though we can.”

Prompto doesn’t really know if he _wants_ that at all. Gralean art is an odd thing. Mostly old, because Niflheim’s move towards military a hundred years or so had consumed everything else and they’d never quite recovered the other parts of their culture.

Prompto’s very existence is living proof of that.

“ _Solarium_ is the only good thing Niflheim ever made so I doubt it,” Prompto says, instead of trying to work through his feelings.

“That’s not true,” Gladio retorts.

“Uh, yes it is.”

“Made you didn’t it,” Gladio teases

“Oh my _gods_ ,” Prompto whines, knowing its a joke but unable to help the happy rush the words bring, completely covering the twinge of discomfort at the suggestion he was _made_.

“Don’t even,” Prompto add, laughing a little.

When they’ve settled Prompto turns fully to look at Gladio and asks, “How did you know? About _Solarium_?”

“I asked Noct for advice,” Gladio admits.

“Wait, really?” Prompto asks, wondering when and how and why this happened, “ _Why_?”

“I wanted this to be special,” Gladio says gently.

Prompto struggles for a moment, the swell of hope in his chest _painful_. He tries to speak, fails once and manages to get some words out.

“I’m really - I’m really glad we’re doing this.”

It’s not everything he wants to say, but its something.

Maybe Noct;s right, maybe Prompto should tell him. He should do it now, he should -

“Me too,” Gladio says.

Prompto can't do it. He can't make himself risk whatever this has become.

When Gladio's turned the car onto the main straight road that leads to across to the other side of the city he takes one hand off the wheel to rest on Prompto’s thigh. Prompto covers that hand with his own.

“Oh, hey, I kind of monopolised the conversation this morning,” Prompto says, only feeling a _little_ embarrassed, “How was your trip?”

“Good,” Gladio says, “Felt long. But the recruits are good, interesting to check out the Glaive for a change.”

“You normally work with the Crownsguard?” Prompto checks. He’s learnt bits and pieces over time - Iggy is _technically_ a member but he has no formal duties in that capacity - but what Gladio’s job entails apart from heading Noct’s security is a little beyond him.

“Mhm. I mostly train new recruits because if you can’t handle training with me then you’ll never make it a week with Cor and then I help out with specialist weapon training for the ones that go the way I do.”

Something about that name - _Cor_ \- fills Prompto with an odd feeling. Almost deja vu but not quite.

“Dumb civilian question,” Prompto says, “Difference between the Guard and the Glaive?”

Gladio chuckles, “Not dumb. The Crownsguard generally stays in Insomnia, keeps things peaceful here, protects the royal family and the Kingsglaive are responsible for things in Lucis at large and beyond the borders.”

“Huh,” Prompto says. Wondering if it was _Glaive_ that had been at the facility the day they’d been rescued.

“It’s changed a lot over history, and when we were at war everyone did what was needed, obviously _and_ those at the top tend to blur lines. My boss is Marshal of the Crownsguard but his duties always send him outside the wall because he’s so good at reconnaissance.”

Prompto thinks it’s interesting but also, for some reason, it makes him think about what _his_ role in the military would have been if they’d never been rescued and he’d made it to sixteen.

Cannon fodder, probably.

“You’re super high up, right?”

Gladio half shrugs, “I guess technically I’m third in command for the Crownsguard, but my Dad is head of the Guard and his duties are _only_ to look after King Regis and when Noct takes a more active role that’s what’ll happen to me. The Marshal and his officers have always been responsible for the day to day running of the Guard and the Glaive have their own Captain.”

“Sound complicated,” Prompto admits. Part of him reeling from the bomb that Gladio’s _third_ in command for half the Lucian military.

Wild.

Makes sense why his legacy is so important.

“Sounds more so than it is - but then I grew up with it so I can’t really say,” Gladio acknowledges. He squeezes Prompto’s fingers, “What about you though. Rest of your day better?”

“Good,” Prompto says, “Iggy made - uh, something, but it was really good and one of the things bothering me kind of figured itself out. Thanks for talking to Iggy, by the way, about my visa and stuff.”

Gladio brings their joined hands towards his mouth so he can briefly kiss Prompto’s knuckles, “Said I would, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, But still. “ _Thank you_.”

Gladio has to let go of his hand completely then, to shift gears and turn them off the main road. After that its only a short drive towards the harbour. Perhaps owing to it being midweek Gladio manages to find parking in the theatre’s lot.

Gladio leads him to a line of people waiting at _ticket collection_ and in a few minutes they’re holding real tickets, made of thin card. Prompto hopes he gets to keep at least a little of it.

There’s a concession stand selling more than just the usual popcorn and nachos and Prompto’s half intrigued by the _soft pretzel bites_ but he’s been fed by Iggy today and assumes Gladio will want proper food after this so he doesn’t say anything and just confirms, when Gladio double checks, that lemonade is his favourite. Still, something in his intrigue must have shown because Gladio orders a small bag of the pretzels and when they settle into their seats he places the bag directly in Prompto’s lap with a kiss to the temple.

The theatre’s half full by the time the lights dim - and the pretzels half gone - but Gladio managed to get fairly good seats, most of the way back and towards the centre if not dead on.

Prompto sighs when the opening music starts up a pleasant bubble of fond nostalgia swelling in his belly. Gladio raises the arm rest between their seats and takes his hand again, resting it gently on his own thigh.

Prompto gets absorbed enough into the familiar plot he _almost_ forgets it’s Gladio by his side, holding his hand, but never quite completely.

The heroine stands before _Ifrit_ , hand clutching the fur of her animatronic sidekick - some kind of dragon shaped beast - and even though he _knows_ her death is a fake out he still mourns her alongside her companions, struggling to completely suppress the well of emotion this brings and he tries to blink away his tears as subtly as possible, raising fingertips to wipe away his tears.

Gladio lets go of his hand then and for a sickening moment he thinks Gladio’s _annoyed_ or _disgusted_ by the display but he simply shifts and wraps his strong arm over Prompto’s shoulders, encouraging him into his side. Prompto happily snuggles down there, head partially on his chest as he watches the final half.

Even to this day, ten years after he first saw the movie and maybe thirty since it was first made, Prompto thinks the combination of real and computer based special affects are amazing. Shiva swoops in to bless the Heroine and deploy the weapon she’s unwilling to wield herself and the icy affect across the lens and the scenery stuns him all over again.

Prompto hopes Gladio’s enjoying it but he can understand if he’s not. It’s something of a cult classic in Niflheim but, essentially, it’s a kids film. No bad language, no violence that can’t be described as cartoonish and the only romantic subplot is that between Ifrit and Shiva. Prompto’s pretty sure that all these things were what allowed him to fall in love with it as a kid but maybe it’s not the _best_ when you’re viewing it for the first time approaching your mid twenties.

Gladio doesn’t _act_ bored though. He even patiently lets Prompto sit through the first two songs of the credits as they play, familiar and warming, some of his only happy memories from childhood.

Prompto shifts as the end part of the credits start, a list of studios with a boring instrumental that means nothing to him in a loop over the top, and presses a kiss to Gladio’s jaw. It’s rough and pleasant against his mouth and idly Prompto wonders when was the last time he shaved.

It’d probably take Prompto a year to grow that much hair and even then it wouldn’t spread much further than his chin.

“We can go,” Prompto murmurs even though almost everyone else is already gone.

Gladio twists his head slightly so their lips touch briefly. “I don’t mind watching ‘til the end if you wanna listen,” he all but whispers.

Prompto shakes his head, “It’s just this over and over now.”

Gladio gives him a smile Prompto can only just make out in the dim light and gets to his feet with a soft groan, stretching his back a little before holding out his hand for Prompto to take.

They head out of the theatre, not bothering to loop them around back towards the car, instead walking towards where Prompto can _just_ hear the gentle movement of water in the harbour.

“You can admit you didn’t like it,” Prompto half teases. Only half because he also wants Gladio to know he won’t care if Gladio actually doesn’t like it, just the gesture of watching it with him is _everything_.

A breeze catches them and Prompto adjusts his jacket to stop it flapping about but Gladio drops his hand to wrap around his shoulders like he’s worried Prompto might be cold. Prompto hasn’t really been _cold_ since he moved to Lucis but he leans into it anyway, wrapping his own arm around Gladio because _obviously_.

“It was,” Gladio hesitates, clearly thinking of the right word. Prompto’s already smiling before Gladio finishes, “Interesting.”

Prompto laughs, shoulders shaking under Gladio’s arm, “It’s probably bad without a dose of nostalgia. But the special affects were super good for their time.”

“The animatronics _were_ cool,” Gladio agrees, musing, “It sucks no one does stuff that way any more.”

“I’d like to see what someone could do with the concept today,” Prompto says, “Still use all the old fashioned stuff but just better _cameras_ if nothing else, you know.”

Gladio nods in agreement and slowly they make their way towards a row of food stalls. Prompto lets himself be led over to particular stand without paying attention, only turning to look at the large chalkboard menu when the pleasant scent of spices tickles his nose.

Prompto can tell its Galahdian before he even reads the menu - leaning into Gladio’s side the whole time - but when he does he spots a few dishes the same or at least similar to the restaurant he goes to with Noct and/or Iggy sometimes.

Which they only go to _without_ Gladio.

Because Gladio doesn’t like Galahdian food.

Gladio seems surprised when Prompto suddenly straightens up and starts tugging on his arm to lead him away.

“We should eat somewhere else,” Prompto explains when Gladio doesn’t budge. Prompto has no hope of making him budge, after all.

“ _Why_?”

“You don’t like Galahdian food,” Prompto explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Which he assumes it is, seeing as Gladio’s the one that doesn’t like it.

It’s super sweet of Gladio to want to eat what Prompto likes at his own expense but there’s plenty of other stuff here that could make them both happy.

Gladio holds firm against Prompto’s efforts to move him though, shaking his head a little and looking _nervous_.

“No that’s not - shit,” Gladio starts. He sounds _awkward_ somehow, “That’s not true.”

Prompto frowns and steps right up into his space, wondering how he can make him feel more at ease. Gladio makes _him_ feel better instead, by pressing a warm kiss to his forehead.

“I don’t go to that restaurant because - well, shit I’m sorry, I used to have a thing with one of the waiters and it didn’t end the way he wanted it to so he’s banned me, basically.”

Gladio says it fast, all in one breath and it takes a measurable amount of time for Prompto’s brain to register his words.

He laughs.

And laughs.

Gladio waits him out, looking fond if a little exasperated when Prompto’s finally recovered.

“Wait, so you haven’t had Semur Skewers in forever just because some guy got a heart-on for you?” Prompto asks, still tittering a little.

Gladio laughs, a surprised sound, “A what? Did you just say _heart_ -on?”

“You knows like a boner but with your feelings?” Prompto explains. He could explain them well, he knows all about them.

Gladio tugs Prompto back into the circle of his arms and laughs softly into his hair.

“Have they got them here?” Gladio asks, glancing over at the menu.

-

Prompto disposes of all their trash before Gladio can and strolls back towards their table - overlooking the water and _very_ romantic if he says so himself - under his playful glower.

Gladio spreads his legs a little further and encourages Prompto between them, placing his hands on Prompto’s hips and tilting his head up for a kiss Prompto gifts him happily.

“You ready to go?” Gladio asks, “Or you wanna walk around a while?”

“I’m ready to take you home,” Prompto specifies.

Gladio grins and stands to lead them back to the car.

Traffic is worse, somehow, so the ride home feels both longer because of that but shorter in the way return journeys always do. About halfway there Gladio reaches over to squeeze his thigh.

“So how many times have you seen _Solarium_? Noct only told me it was your favourite as a kid?”

“Loads,” Prompto tells him, “We had like maybe a half dozen DVDs at the kids home so it was just an endless loop of that and other stuff I didn’t really enjoy.”

Gladio makes a faint noise and Prompto doesn’t know if he’s distressed at the reminder Prompto grew up in a children’s home or just the idea that he was perpetually bored.

“You don’t have a copy now?” Gladio asks.

Prompto shakes his head, “I never bothered to get a copy because it was on _Moogleflix_ in Niflheim and if I was paying for that it wasn’t worth the money.”

It never would have survived the purge of all his belongings when he moved either.

“ _Moogleflix_ is different in different places?” Gladio says sounding like its the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“Yeah. I imagine Tenebrae has loads of stuff we’ve never seen. Stuff that doesn’t work outside the place its set. Bet all their stuff is named after _flowers_ ,” Prompto says.

Gladio clears his throat.

Prompto laughs, “I never said that was a _bad_ thing.”

Gladio digs his fingers lightly into his thigh and Prompto squeals at the tickling sensation, clamping his hand over the top of Gladio’s to make it stop.

“I think stuff named after flowers is the coolest, manliest shit ever,” Prompto says breathlessly and Gladio stops his assault.

“That’s what I thought,” Gladio agrees. Slowly his thumb makes circles just above Prompto’s knee.

“You can probably make _Moogleflix_ think you live in Gralea still,” Gladio muses.

“Yeah. No thanks,” Prompto says, “It was missing all the best Lucian stuff. Niflheim is, at it’s best, _pro_ -Niflheim and it’s worst anti-Lucis. I’ll stick with what I have.”

Gladio grins and Prompto thinks he could look at that smile, softly lit by passing street lights, forever.

-

Prompto braces his hand on Gladio’s hip and slips his fingers free from his entrance - he’s a wide as he’s willing to spread himself on something that isn’t Gladio’s dick.

Prompto’s not going to lie, he’s more than a little eager to live out this fantasy that’s been rattling around inside his head for the last week or so.

“Shit, shit, okay - I’m good,” Prompto says, giggling breathlessly.

He shifts forward, briefly touching Gladio’s dick with his lubed fingers and attempting to seat himself over it.

But then Gladio’s gripping _his_ hip and stopping him from getting what he wants.

“Baby,” Gladio says, voice tight, “We need a condom.”

Right.

 _Right_.

Prompto understands the difference between _want_ and need here. He _wants_ to sink down on Gladio’s cock with nothing between them but he knows he _needs_ to be safe while the possibility Gladio's enjoying other people is still on the table.

Prompto whines but dutifully leans over Gladio’s form to retrieve protection from his bedside drawer. He’s running low - on stuff ideal for Gladio anyway - but he’s hesitant to buy more on the off chance this _ends_ soon and he’s left with useless reminders of a better time.

Gladio strokes round from his hip to his ass while he scrambles for one and Prompto’s had a strict no touching policy up until this point but now he’s _burning_ for Gladio to touch him, be everywhere all at once, all over him.

Prompto rears back with his prize, tearing into it with his teeth and smoothing it over the impressive flesh between Gladio’s thighs impatienttly. He _thinks_ he’s finally going to get what he wants but Gladio tuts and presses a hand to his chest to stop him.

Prompto whines again and its a pitiful sound to his own ears.

Gladio digs out the discarded lube and squeezes some onto his dick, taking some time to spread it over himself - too long, in Prompto’s opinion.

 _Finally_ Gladio lets him shift up and over, seating himself fully onto Gladio’s length in a swift move that stretches him in a way that burns, hot and fast and _good._ Prompto cries out with his head tilted back, writhing slightly to get used to the feeling of Gladio inside him at this angle.

Gladio’s hands grip the tops of Prompto’s arms gently and he’s tugged downward, Gladio taking a long considering look at his face before pulling him in for a kiss.

Prompto tries to shift his hips, to start riding him properly - he’d wanted to go slow and long but he’s not sure he’ll make it now - but Gladio holds his hips completely still, locked in a grasp as solid as iron while he maps Prompto’s mouth with his tongue. There’s something about the feeling, the helplessness of being unable to move while stuffed completely full that fills up his chest and his stomach. Exhilarating and _new_.

“Gladio,” Prompto mumbles, just shy of begging, “C’mon, _please_.”

Gladio gently pushes him upright again, laughing softly at the needy expression on his face and when Prompto’s settled Gladio lightly taps his ass, fingers barely making a sound against his skin.

Prompto’s dick twitches in interest and in the long line of things Prompto thought he might enjoy _that_ had never occurred to him. Now it’s occurring to him _a lot_ and he half wants to climb back off Gladio and lay himself prone over his lap and ask for a stronger slap, one that’ll leave his skin pink and slightly sore.

Instead, Prompto rolls his hips, focusing on what he wanted before and thoughts of _anything_ else abandon him as he sets up a even pace, grinding his hips smoothly to keep Gladio deep _and_ provide a glorious friction.

Prompto groans low when he brushes Gladio right up against his prostate and it must feel good for Gladio too because he echoes with a noise of his own.

“Fuck, you look so good, baby, _Gods_ ,” Gladio mutters, one hand bracing his hip and the other trailing up his chest to toy with his nipples.

Prompto all but squeals, the flash of pleasure shooting straight to his dick and his hips jerk harshly, seating Gladio inside him at a deeper angle, blunt pressure against his prostate.

Prompto shifts, struggling to find the _perfect_ angle and Gladio hushes him absentmindedly, the hand playing with his chest turning to gentle pressure that has Prompto arching his back over Gladio’s thighs, bracing himself on Gladio’s legs so he doesn’t fall completely backwards. The next time he rolls down he gasps, pleasure almost blinding him and Prompto shifts away from it then back down in a fast roll, building momentum.

“That’s it,” Gladio praises him. Gladio starts to raise and lower his own hips in the small space he has, adding even _more_ to Prompto’s overworked nerves. Prompto’s next moan is more like a sob and he’s done with slow.

So, so done with slow he doesn’t know why he ever thought it was a good idea in the first place.

He hooks his feet onto Gladio’s thighs to give himself the leverage to really ride him, bouncing in his lap.

Prompto lets himself get lost in the action, the feel of Gladio’s dick splitting him open again and again, the slightly rough feel of the hair on his thighs against his ass, the tight grip of his fingers on his hip that move without warning to take hold of Prompto’s neglected dick.

Prompto freezes, pressed tight against Gladio, thighs trembling as he tries to cope with the new sensation.

“Oh fuck. I can’t -” Prompto sobs.

Gladio nudges his hips and encourages him with a rough, needy, “Yes you can.”

Prompto doesn’t have the energy to lift himself up any more, all he can do is wind back and forth, not letting Gladio escape him and just grinding him relentlessly against the soft spot inside him.

Gladio works him with steady strokes, rough and fast and Prompto teeters, impossibly close to the edge without falling over until all at once the string inside him snaps and he opens his mouth in a silent screams coming and coming and coming with Gladio inside and around him.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Gladio praises, “So good, perfect, you beautiful boy -”

 _Perfect_.

Gladio starts to fuck up into him, hips jerky and a little uncoordinated and at first Prompto doesn’t really notice the way it stabs at his prostate, still coming down from his high. Prompto doesn’t even notice he’s being held up at first, Gladio's hand tight on his ass but as soon as he whines, on the edge of desperation.

Gladio slows down and it makes _no sense_ when Prompto can feel him throbbing inside him, presumably so close to coming himself he must be able to taste it.

Prompto knocks Gladio's hand away from his dick, to stop it from being _too_ much and starts to ride him again, short jerky movements that are all Prompto can find the energy for.

His thighs are still trembling.

“I want it,” Prompto moans, trying to egg him on, “Come on, fucking fill me up Gladio. _Please_. Fucking _use_ me.”

Gladio holds him tight with both hands, stopping his movement all together again and thrusts up into him roughly, an indescribable rhythm Prompto can’t follow and then he’s coming a rough growl building in his throat and tumbling from his mouth as a groan.

Prompto can’t actually feel him coming with the condom in the way, but he feels the way Gladio's cock jerks right before he's pinning Prompto's hips down without a breath between them.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Prompto says allowing himself to finally flop forward against Gladio’s broad, heaving chest.

Prompto presses a kiss right between Gladio’s pecs and listens to his heart racing, his own breath coming a little easier as it slows and Gladio’s hands petting gently up and down his spine.

Gladio is the one that recovers first, somehow, helping Prompto raise himself up just enough for Gladio to slip out of him.

Prompto feels bereft when he’s gone, even more so when he climbs off the bed altogether leaving him open and sticky. Empty in the obvious physical way as well as a slowly expanding feeling in his chest.

He almost startles when Gladio’s hands touch his back but rolls over at his insistence and laying still and pliable as Gladio cleans him up, softly wiping his tacky skin with a warm, damp cloth.

Gladio’s going to leave now, he thinks, alone in this bed with the ache of their joining still between his thighs. Prompto plays at dozing, hoping to avoid a potentially painful goodbye.

Tonight was so perfect. Too perfect. Whatever Gladio’s intentions might have been all he’s done is make Prompto fall harder and deeper, eager for more of this tender, doting side of the Shield.

The bed shifts when Gladio climbs in beside him, slipping his arm over Prompto’s waist. Prompto tries not to seem as visibly surprised as he feels.

“Can I stay?” Gladio asks and Prompto's attempts at keeping his cool are for nothing.

“You don’t have - do you _want_ to?” Prompto asks, eyes popping open to study Gladio’s face.

“Of course. Please?”

Prompto smiles without meaning too and shifts closer, Gladio rolling more onto his back so Prompto can half drape himself over his body. Prompto can see the dark lines of Gladio’s tattoo creeping over his shoulder and he reaches out to touch the precise lines.

“Sorry my bed’s so small,” Prompto apologises, hoping Gladio will be able to get comfortable.

“Oh yeah,” Gladio teases, squeezing Prompto’s waist, “This is _awful_.”

Prompto laughs and lets the last bit of tension drain from his body.

Whatever _this_ is between them now Prompto hopes he can hang onto it for as long as he can.

“Maybe we can go for breakfast in the morning,” Prompto mumbles, hoping he can hang onto it for _longer_.

Gladio kisses the top of his head, “Whatever you want, Freckles.”

Prompto smiles and lets his eyes drop closed. Gladio smells good even now, maybe a little like _Prompto_ even.

Tired and faintly aching but wonderfully content, Prompto falls asleep.

\- - -

Prompto’s rolled over in the night so he wakes up with Gladio warm along the length of his back and his arm heavy around his waist.

He feels almost giddy, overjoyed that Gladio’s still _here_ , close enough to feel the expansion of his chest every time he inhales.

Prompto finds himself wide awake, so he carefully slips out of the bed - he’s between Gladio and the wall so it takes a little ingenious manoeuvring - so the big guy can get a little more sleep if he wants it. Prompto’s kind of hard wired to wake up before eight every morning but not everyone can handle that like he does.

Prompto shuts himself away in his bathroom, taking his wristband off for the first time in twenty-four hours and starts the shower. He hopes Gladio’s not too light a sleeper or doesn't try to surprise him in here. That would be fun sure, but he's not ready to be exposed in that way.

He doesn’t spend too long in there just washes away any residual stickiness and ensures he’s fresh smelling for what he _hopes_ is a morning with Gladio.

Prompto still doesn’t know what this _means_ but he feels too full of warm air to really care.

With blind determination Prompto manages to get his hair almost completely dry with just his towel and brushes his teeth thoroughly and carefully before securing his wristband once more and exiting the bathroom with a towel around his hips.

Gladio’s awake, sat up in his boxers on the edge of the bed and Prompto’s stomach flutters happily at the sight, pulling a smile onto his face. He detours on the way to getting dressed to give Gladio a good morning kiss, leaning into it with a hand on Gladio’s bare chest while making sure his towel doesn’t drop.

Gladio looking at him naked in bed feels electric and thrilling but the idea of it now, in the bright light of day, makes him oddly nervous.

Gladio lets him go and Prompto patters over to his drawers, pulling free the first pair of boxers he puts his hands on. With his back to Gladio he drops the towel to quickly pull them up over his ass.

“What time do you have work?” Prompto asks, wondering if his late night dream of pancakes can come true.

“Not ‘til this afternoon, but I’ll go in after breakfast as I need to talk to my dad,” Gladio says and his voice makes whatever that is seem serious so when he adds, “Hey, come here a second,” Prompto abandons his hunt for jeans and slides easily onto Gladio’s lap.

Prompto tries to think with his brain and not his dick when Gladio hooks a forearm under his ass and moves them easily backwards, barely jostling Prompto at all before he’s settled them up against the headboard, Prompto still facing him in his lap.

“What’s up?” Prompto asks running his hands up Gladio’s biceps in what he hopes is a comforting way.

“I wanted to talk to you - shit, I’m no good at this.”

Prompto feels himself freeze. His chest turning into a solid steel cage for his heart to try and beat itself to death inside.

This could be good talk but it could be - and Prompto’s traitorous brain whispers that it’s much more _likely_ to be - bad talk.

Gladio probably just wanted to give them a good send off, one last decent memory before -

Before what?

Gladio gets married off to some stupidly perfect girl and Prompto gets left all alone.

He _always_ ends up alone.

“I’ve been having a really good time - an _amazing_ time - with you,” Gladio says, not seeming to notice Prompto’s distress, “And I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want. About the future -”

This is it.

It’s actually happening.

It’s over.

Prompto goes hot all over, tears burning embarrassingly behind his eyes. Prompto pulls back his hands from Gladio’s body and if he could get his legs moving he’d jump right up off his lap.

“Shit, I should have done this last night, before we -”

Yeah, Prompto thinks, yeah he should have.

Prompto’s not even bothered about the sex, because that’s all they’ve ever been - despite what his stupid little heart would say - but he should have said something before he _stayed_. Before he let Prompto’s feelings take root so deep inside of him that Prompto doesn’t know how long it’ll take for them to stop _growing_ let alone wither and die.

“Why?” Prompto say, surprised by how steady his voice is. Finally his legs seem to work and he stumbles a little shakily from Gladio’s lap, only making it so far as the wall where curls in on himself, shaking hands hidden beneath his arms, “Just one last but of fun, huh?”

Gladio frowns and his hand reaches towards Prompto but he pulling back before actually touching him, “What are you - Prom?”

“You didn’t have to stay last night you know, I don’t need your pity or whatever,” Prompto can’t think what else would have possessed him to do it, “I knew we couldn’t do this forever. Time for you to settle down, I guess. Your dad picked someone out for you yet?”

Prompto regrets the words as soon as he’s said them. No matter how hurt he is by this it hurts him _more_ to see pain flash across Gladio’s features.

Prompto doesn’t even think he has the right to _be_ hurt, not when this is what he signed up for all along.

“Baby -” Gladio says sounding lost.

“Sorry,” Prompto says quickly, “I shouldn’t have said that. I knew what I was getting in to - I just, you were so -” Prompto swallows shakily, admitting, “I got attached, that’s my fault, you were always honest with me.”

“No I wasn’t, not always,” Gladio argues.

Prompto shakes his head, “You were. I’m just dumb, I’m sorry. We can be friends, I might just need some - some time.”

“I don’t wanna be friends,” Gladio blurts.

“Oh.”

 _Oh_.

That. That _really_ hurts.

It was only _yesterday_ that Gladio had said they _were_ friends and now he’s saying _this_.

Had something happened between then and now that changed Gladio’s mind? Was this _not_ what Gladio had planned to do when he’d come to see him yesterday morning?

The idea doesn’t make this hurt any less.

Prompto scrubs across his eyes, knowing a few tears have inevitably made their way free, “I’ll change my day at the tattoo parlour so it’s not awkward for you -”

It wouldn’t be fair for Prompto to affect such an important part of Gladio’s life. Eli will understand, will make allowances for him until he’s completed his work on Gladio.

Eli will probably be annoyed at this turn of events for completely different reasons but Prompto doesn’t have the head space available for that right now.

 _Gods_.

What is he going to tell Noct?

“Freckles, no, that’s not what I mean,” Gladio tries to explain.

Prompto doesn’t want to hear it, what he needs is some space, some time for a good cry and a mope, to get it out of his system.

“It doesn’t matter - seriously. Please you can just go, it’s fine -”

“Prom, I’m trying to ask you to be my boyfriend.”

Prompto inhales too sharply and he hiccups around the air. A tear rolls hotly down his cheek.

“ _Really_?” Prompto breathes.

Gladio laughs, a helpless noise, “Really badly but, yeah baby, I am.”

“But you said - you wanted -” Prompto tries to argue before the hope swells too big in his chest, he can’t handle having it smashed _again_.

“I thought that’s what I wanted but its not,” Gladio says earnestly, “I was an idiot, Prom. Please believe me, I mean _this_ , not all those other things I said.”

Prompto struggles on another breath and Gladio’s face creases. He pats his thigh and begs, “Come back here, please.”

Prompto hesitates.

It _could_ be a trick. It could be -

Gladio’s face is so open and honest, still hurt but hopeful.

Prompto almost over shoots when he launches himself back into Gladio’s hold, only his _boyfriend’s_ strength and quick reflexes stopping a tumble to the ground.

As soon as he’s vertical again Prompto latches an arm around Gladio’s neck so he can’t move away from the thousand of kisses Prompto suddenly needs to press to his jaw.

Prompto’s giddy again, that same warm feeling from this morning expanding his chest.

Gladio laughs breathlessly and asks, “Is that a yes?”

Prompto’s mind _screams_ yes but it also remembers the reason Gladio’s never done stuff like this before.

He's an Amicitia. Shield of Kings. Future father to Shield's of Kings.

“Is it okay?” Prompto makes himself ask, needing to _really_ know before he can give himself fully over to the gorgeous man before him. Prompto sits up slightly so he can read Gladio’s face as he answers.

Gladio’s first response is to cup his face gently and wipe Prompto’s cheeks where wetness has gathered, good tears now, mixed in with the others.

“Well _I’m_ certainly okay with it,” Gladio teases gently.

Prompto would be annoyed at him for dodging the question but there’s just a hint of confusion in his expression that tells Prompto he might not _actually_ know what Prompto’s getting at.

Prompto laughs anyway too full of joy – Gladio _wants_ him - to do much else, “I mean for you. With work and your dad and stuff.”

“I’m pretty sure it will be,” Gladio says nonchalantly, even _shrugging_ , “But honestly I don’t care. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this - and by this I mean _you_ obviously.”

Prompto ducks his head as his face warms, trying to fight a smile.

“I’m not worth fighting with your dad over, or messing up your career,” he points out.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Gladio murmurs tugging Prompto by the hips to get him close enough for a kiss. Prompto falls into it happily, fingers lightly trailing through the short hair on his jaw.

“You gonna answer me any time today?” Gladio asks when he’s done.

“Huh? Oh - yeah. Duh,” Prompto says. Was there ever _any_ question? “Of course. I’m _crazy_ about you.”

It feels nice to say it aloud. To be able to say it aloud without fear of it vanishing like smoke.

“Feeling is more than mutual, I assure you,” Gladio promises, smiling.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe this,” Prompto says unable to keep the happiness inside him any longer. He shifts on Gladio’s lap, fidgets - bounces - overcome with glee.

“I can’t believe you thought I was trying to end things,” Gladio says, “After last night.”

“I thought you were just doing something nice for me,” Prompto admits, “To soften the blow because I’m Noct’s friend.”

Not his smartest line of thought, obviously.

Hindsight and all that.

“You need to give yourself more credit,” Gladio growls rolling them both quickly so he has Prompto pinned beneath on his back, “Nobody’s ever made me feel like this before.”

“Got under your skin, huh?”

Gladio doesn’t answer, just pushes Prompto’s head back with his jaw so Gladio can kiss into his throat. Lips followed almost immediately by teeth.

Prompto simply laces his fingers into the length of Gladio’s hair, laying back with barely an adjustment, just shifting his hips and his legs until he’s anchoring Gladio’s body against his own with all the strength in his thighs.

Teeth work his flesh so that Prompto can _feel_ the light bruise blossoming and he tugs at Gladio’s hair to get him to look at him.

Breakfast, sure.

But also -

“You’re not in a rush?” Prompto asks.

“Why, you got something in mind?”

“Always,” Prompto grins

“I dunno,” Gladio says slowly, looking Prompto over, “You _just_ had a shower, it would be a shame to make you all dirty again.”

Prompto pouts and Gladio leans in to kiss his bottom lip. Prompto can feel his smile.

“But then again,” Gladio murmurs.

In the blink of an eye Prompto finds himself on his belly.

He makes a surprised noise but it’s quickly swallowed by laughter.

Gladio leans over him from behind, kissing his way slowly down his spine and taking hold of and removing his underwear as soon as he encounters it. Prompto sees one of his pillows move in his periphery and then Gladio’s wedging it beneath his hips, trapped between Prompto’s swelling erection and the bed.

Oh, Prompto thinks when he feels Gladio’s breath against the top of his thigh, _oh_.

At Gladio’s gentle urging he spreads his thighs a little wider even though it leaves him exposed in a way that’s unfamiliar even though Gladio’s looked at this part of him many times now. He has _pictures_ of this part of Prompto.

Gladio kisses him twice, once on each cheek and then he drags the rough edge of his jaw up his inner thigh.

Prompto was definitely red before but it’s probably gone now, all the blood in his body making a beeline for his dick.

“Shit,” Prompto gasps.

“This okay?” Gladio checks, _licking_ the skin now.

“Y-yeah,” Prompto says, he makes himself look over his shoulder at Gladio - perched _between_ his thighs - as he admits, “I’ve never - no ones ever done this for me before.”

Gladio carefully pulls him apart, exposing him more fully to the air of his bedroom.

“ _That_ ,” Gladio says roughly, “Is a crime.”

Gladio licks across his hole in one firm swipe, warm and wet and wonderful.

“Oh, fuck,” Prompto mutters jerking his hips away from the new sensation and then back towards it when his brain fully registers how amazing it feels.

Gladio chuckles darkly and moves in again, tracing Prompto’s rim in delicate movements, alternating with firm swipes.

“Shit, shit,” Prompto stammers, thigh jerking slightly. Not because Prompto _doesn’t_ like it but because he seems to have lost most of the control over the lower half of his body.

Gladio hold that thigh steady, anchors Prompto to Eos as he starts to open him up. Pressing in gently with his tongue whenever Prompto babbles something particularly nonsensical.

Prompto doesn’t know how long this goes on for, not really, but after an indeterminable amount of time Gladio works his fingers into him too. Normally he’ll complain about using nothing but spit but Gladio must trust himself in this situation to spread him open finger by finger, soothing any ache that comes with a press of his tongue.

It takes Prompto by surprise.

Somehow Prompto finds himself right on the edge, between the spread of Gladio’s fingers and the teasing of his tongue, the friction of his dick where he’s rutting it softly against his pillow and Prompto knows if Gladio’s fingers touch him _just_ right one more time then he’s going to spill all over himself in an embarrassing, premature mess.

“No, no,” Prompto says, needing Gladio to stop even if he doesn’t want him too, “Fuck.”

Gladio’s mouth leaves him quickly but his hand pulls free more slowly, carefulness obvious with every millimetre that slips free.

“What’s wrong?” Gladio murmurs, moving back over him so the warmth of his body is a soothing presence against him. Gladio kisses the back of his neck, nuzzling the hairline that’s damp all over again.

“I was gonna come,” Prompto admits, struggling to draw breath. He tries to roll over but doesn’t, apparently, have control over his limbs. Gladio helps him with gentle hands.

Gladio’s mouth looks wet, his chin a little damp and Prompto suspects he’s supposed to find that gross but instead he wants to kiss him and realising he’s kind of allowed to do whatever he wants now he pulls Gladio’s face towards him.

Gladio resists, brushes their noses together in place of a kiss, “Remember where I just was.”

Prompto shakes his head, tugs at his jaw again, “Don’t care.”

They kiss and Prompto’s immediately disappointed by the fabric still covering Gladio’s thighs so he pulls his legs up high enough to get his toes into the waistband and start to tug it down. It works better than he thought it would and Gladio only has to pull way to take them all the way off when his dick is already freed, nestled up against Prompto’s.

 _That’s_ what Prompto wants, that and nothing else.

“So, uh -” Prompto stammers, shy in the face of actually _asking_ for it.

“Hmm?” Gladio’s obviously a little distracted, kissing his throat again while he kicks his underwear off the end of the bed.

Prompto takes Gladio's dick in hand, hoping to pull focus and says quietly, “Want this in me.”

“You think I’m gonna say no?” Gladio asks, looking amused.

“Just this,” Prompto clarifies.

Prompto should have probably clarified _more_ as it turns out because he has to watch Gladio think for a moment about what he means before he can answer. Before words however he gets a needy pulse in Gladio’s dick and a wet pulse against his palm.

“Prom,” Gladio starts hesitantly, “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“You’re clean right?” Prompto says quickly, “You have all those checks for work and stuff and _I_ am too and if its just gonna be us from now on I really want to _feel_ you -”

Gladio leans in to kiss him, effectively ending his rambling.

Prompto knows they have frequent physicals and that STD tests had been added into the mix a couple years back when an entire squad of Glaive had come back from a mission beyond the wall with a communicable disease. _Noct_ likes to tell the story like a funny anecdote but for Ignis its a staunch warning for people to be safe.

Prompto thinks Nyx might have been involved somehow but he dare not ask.

But Gladio’s always been careful with _him_ , so he can only believe he would have been careful with everyone else too. That thought _now_ makes jealousy rage in his belly but he tries to ignore it. Gladio’s here now, that’s all that matters.

“It’s only _been_ you,” Gladio tells him, dropping another soft kiss, “Since we started.”

If Gladio thinks _that’s_ going to convince him to reach into his drawer for a condom he’s got another thing coming. Prompto’s so surprised by this news that all he can manage to do is rear his head up enough to kiss Gladio frantically. He’s not sure what emotion he’s trying to convey because he’s not sure what else is trying to make itself known within all the joy.

“Please, please, please,” Prompto begs, starting to work his hand over Gladio again in needier strokes.

Gladio sighs, eyes closing as Prompto continues to touch him. Prompto can pretty much hear the gears turning in his head.

“Give me the lube then,” Gladio says.

“I’m ready,” Prompto says at once, rather than crowing victoriously like he wants.

There’s a bit of a rigmarole then, Gladio worried about hurting him, Prompto eager to be one with it.

But eventually Gladio deems him fit to continue, slicked with lube and easily swallowing three of Gladio’s fingers.

And then.

 _Then_.

Gladio’s pressing inside him, the blunt tip of his cock directly against his skin and it feels like everything Prompto wanted.

And infinitely more.

-

Gladio orders a full breakfast, eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns - the works. It’s exactly the kind of thing Prompto would eat and immediately feel settle around his stomach, a long forgotten whisper about his metabolism being slow echoing in his brain.

But he manages to push that feeling aside and order a plate of strawberry pancakes with chocolate sauce.

They're at a cutesy little diner, family owned by the looks of it, part way between Prompto's apartment and his work.

“Is the chocolate sauce on the pancakes or on the side,” Prompto asks while the waitress is still scribbling. Her hair is dyed white blond, pulled up in a ponytail to expose her undercut. There’s a tattoo behind her ear, a series of what look like runes.

She smiles down at him, “Both.”

“Can I just have it on the side, please?” Prompto asks.

He hates - _hates_ \- when pancakes get all soggy and gooey from syrup. Noct always drenches his in more syrup than Prompto thinks is probably safe and then miraculously feels sleepy after, like he hasn’t just eaten three weeks worth of sugar.

“Sure thing, sweetie,” the waitress says, scribbling something else on her order pad, “Won’t be long, you guys need more coffee?”

She’d poured them cups when she’d first dropped off the menus and Prompto’s barely touched his despite doctoring it heavily with milk and sweetener packets.

“I’m good,” Gladio says and Prompto shakes his head, smiling at her.

Prompto’s hand is resting on the table from where he’d been flicking through the menu and Gladio takes it, interlacing their fingers. For a moment part of him is scared that people might turn to look, judge them, but then he remembers he’s in Lucis, where its been a long time since it was a crime to be with whoever you wanted.

“You like chocolate?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods, “The sweet stuff. Bitter is - bleurgh. No fun for me.”

Gladio smiles glancing at Prompto’s coffee cup, “Got it.”

“Why you asking?” Prompto asks, sensing an ulterior motive.

“Just taking notes,” Gladio says, “When I inevitably need to apologise for something I know a box of chocolates will go down well.”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“I’m new at this, Freckles,” Gladio admits, squeezing his fingers, “If I’m not doing something right - or you need something from me -”

Gladio breaks off, looking unsure.

Prompto thinks of all the soft touches and kind words, attentiveness clear even before yesterday when he'd been trying to make a statement.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Prompto repeats. Gladio smiles.

“So, um -” Prompto starts, needing to know but not sure he wants to, “Your meeting with your Dad today. Is that about - about me?”

“Us,” Gladio corrects quickly, “About us. Yeah. I need to tell him.”

Prompto’s hand might be shaking if Gladio didn’t have such a secure hold on it.

“I really don’t want you to have to fight with him,” Prompto murmurs, “Or it to affect your job.”

“Don’t worry about my job. There’s literally no rule that says I can’t date whoever I want -”

“For now,” Prompto says. Not sure he _will_ be able to give Gladio up after a short period of time with him like this after all.

“Don’t worry about that,” Gladio begs, “Please. We’ll figure it out.”

Prompto manages a weak smile. “And your dad?”

“Dad’s gonna be fine. He’s never judged me for anything before, I can’t imagine he’ll start now.”

And Gladio sounds so sure of himself, so certain that this - they - will be able to work out okay in the end that, at least for a little while, Prompto can’t imagine anything ever going wrong again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignis being like ‘oh no Prompto let me handle your immigration application’ because he knows shit and wants to protect Prompto from more potential trauma as long as he can. We stan Mama-Iggy here.  
> In an original draft of this Noct and Prom had an actual fight about him not being honest with Gladio but both of them just felt really out of character - Noct might be a little dumb sometimes but he’s not going to pick a fight with Prompto a few hours after he has a panic attack.  
> Did everyone see the kink exploration tag I added at the very start of this? We’re getting there you guys. It’s amazing what an expression of trust and commitment will do for Prompto’s desire to explore. Essentially what I’m saying is there’s going to be plenty of actually new things from here on out.


	8. Commitment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys prepare for the upcoming holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I hate life outside of writing. Hate it. Would like to experience less of it. I don’t really have an excuse apart from it being my birthday but I wasn’t even busy I was just kinda sad. Sorry for the delay folks <3  
> To put my struggle with this one in to perspective it took me three or four days to write a blow job. Yep. And guess what else was being a pain again? You guessed it; Noct.
> 
> Plus side, I tentatively updated the chapter count to 13 (though with my word counts it’ll probably spread to 14) which means yes this side story will be longer than the original and also I have two one-shots planned and then another short (says me) story set after college/Noct’s wedding with the boys settling into a permanent life together. Please tell me why I can’t stop with this universe?

Prompto doesn’t check his phone until he’s waiting outside _Sakana_ , huddled against the wall to stand back from the wind. Gladio had offered to wait with him but Prompto had shooed him off, not wanting him to be late to meet his dad and certain that his boss would be there in a few minutes to open up.

His boss is _not_ there in a few minutes to open up because he’s _late_.

Prompto spares a moment to text Gladio another cheerful good luck, unable to stop himself from offering him an out if he needs one. Gladio might not think its necessary but Prompto’s _not_ letting him throw his life away on his account.

[Prompto 11:01] good luck with your dad （*＾3＾）

[Prompto 11:03] and if things go bad, i want you to know, there won’t be any hard feelings if you have to walk away. i’ll understand <3

Gladio’s driving so Prompto doesn’t expect him to text back, which gives him the necessary time to check his other messages. Prompto's phone flashing to let him know he has _a few_ from Noct that he never saw last night.

[Noct 18:31] have fun dude

[Noct 18:32] let me know how it goes

[Noct 20:01] are you out of the movie yet?

[Noct 20:02: have you spoken to gladio yet?

[Noct 20:30] prom?

[Noct 20:45] was the movie later than i thought?

[Noct 21:07] look. im not worried. but like. text me back

[Noct 21:10] prom? did something happen?

[Noct 21:27] ill come over there. dont think i wont

[Noct 21:36] okay I won’t come over because you’re probably having sex

[Noct 21:37] literally nothing else is a good reason to be ignoring me

[Noct 21:59] ugh. come on. you have to be done by now?

[Noct 22:00] prom

[Noct 22:01] prompto

[Noct 22:02] mr argentum

[Noct 22:03] sir chocoknight

[Noct 22:04] prrooooooommmmmm

[Noct 22:05] look here you little shit

[Noct 22:10] Prompto, I apologise for Noctis’ actions and have taken his phone away from him. I hope you had a lovely time, please enjoy the rest of your evening - Ignis (⌐▨_▨)

[Noct 08:17] seriously? i have to be up at the asscrack of dawn and i don’t even have a grovelly message from my best friend to wake up to?

[Noct 08:19] i know youre awake. get off gladios dick and talk to me

[Noct 08:20] prom

[Noct 08:21] prompto

[Noct 08:22] projvsdhoigh

[Noct 08:25] I apologise again, Prompto. Please message Noctis back when you have a moment, I believe he’s a little worried last night may not have gone as well as we all hoped - Ignis.

There’s something to be said for airplane mode and all that.

[Prompto 11:07] firstly 8 is not the ass crack of dawn

[Prompto 11:08] secondly, i was busy with my BOYFRIEND

[Prompto 11:09] sorry not sorry

[Prompto 11:10] though that is the last time you will be ignored in favour of him - for real i put my phone on silent for the movie and forgot to turn it off again, my bad.

[Prompto 11:11] noct? you mad? you in a meeting? i really am sorry, meet up later?

“Oh thank Gods,” Erin says, out of breath, startling Prompto up from his phone, “I was totally gonna get docked if I was late.”

“You’re almost never late,” Prompto murmurs, “You okay?”

“I’m doing an internship,” Erin explains, “And I’d like a real job with them when I graduate in the summer so I offered to do a couple hours this morning and then the copy machine got jammed and it was a whole thing.”

Prompto _thinks_ Erin wants to be a writer when she graduates and remembers her mentioning a nerve-wracking interview a couple weeks back. He’s happy for her, pleased she’s going after what she wants even though, like Prompto, she’s having to heft and grind to get it.

She waves her hands around a little and Prompto notices a smudge of black ink across a couple of her finger. Erin follows his eyes and says forlornly, “I’ll have to wear gloves all shift.”

Her hair is _the_ softest baby pink right now and Prompto's kind of living for it.

Prompto laughs, “If the shift ever starts.”

Erin flicks up the sleeve of her jacket to check her watch and sighs.

“He’s never this late,” she murmurs, “Definitely no call?”

Prompto shakes his head but swipes across to his call log just in case, “Nothing,” he says.

Erin steps into his personal space a little and leans against the wall.

“Huddle together for warmth?” she teases.

Prompto laughs and they wait.

-

Work is awful.

Again.

His second shift in a row that’s just a complete cluster fuck. Even if its for different reasons.

They’re not busy, not by a long shot, but the people that closed yesterday didn’t clean properly before they left and its a slog to get everything up to standard before the customers start to trickle in for lunch.

Their boss is in a killer mood, of course, not bothering to explain _why_ he was late and heavily implying that they could do without their breaks or get docked the pay for the late start. Erin points out that neither thing is legal but the two of them wordlessly agree to forgo breaks just in case.

They do keep their phones under the counter, surreptitiously using them with their boss locked away in his office, and it’s the only reason Prompto gets to reply to Gladio’s messages straight away and not leaving him hanging until five. Which would have been quite the problem, as it turns out.

[Gladio 14:21] Iggy wants to cook us all dinner, shall I pick you up after your shift and drive you to Noct’s?

[Gladio 14:22] I thought we could go back to mine after, for a change of scenery.

Prompto frowns down at his phone, almost squirming with discomfort of not _knowing_.

What about his _Dad_?

Erin laughs at him from across the shop, much less stealthily texting with one hand, coffee cup dangling from the other. It’s not altogether that risky, with the mood he’s in they’ll hear their boss coming long before they see him.

Prompto takes a deep breath.

[Prompto 14:22] you cant just text me like that without telling me how it went with your dad

[Gladio 14:23] I had no idea you were worried about that.

[Prompto 14:24] you’re teasing me and its mean

[Prompto 14:24] dont make me tell noct you’re a bad boyfriend

[Gladio 14:25] It went great, okay, everything is perfect.

It’s certainly nice to read but of course Prompto can’t just accept that at face value, he knows Gladio well enough to know he wouldn’t drop bad news over text but then he probably wouldn’t insinuate it was _perfect_ either.

[Prompto 14:26] but you’d probably tell me that even if you fought and got disowned

[Gladio 14:27] The only thing he’s mad about is that I told him he has to wait to meet you.

[Gladio 14:27] Honestly this is the happiest for me I’ve seen him in a long time.

[Prompto 14:28] oh gods i’m gonna have to meet your dad

[Gladio 14:29] He’s a teddy bear and he likes you already.

[Gladio 14:30] And not yet anyway, I told him we wanted some time to just exist first.

[Prompto 14:31] phew

[Gladio 14:32] Noct’s? Tonight? You finish at 5?

[Prompto 14:33] i should run home to grab an overnight bag, shall i just meet you there?

[Gladio 14:34] I’ve got stuff you can use. Going home first means you’re just looping back on yourself.

[Prompto 14:35] you better have the comfiest shirt in the world for me to sleep in

A customer comes in then and Prompto tucks his phone into his back pocket, straightening up to take their order.

-

Prompto escapes through the doors of _Sakana_ at 5:19, anxious about the idea of Gladio having waited for him so long he would have gotten bored.

Instead, he’s surprised to see Gladio _and_ Ignis both, sat in the front of the car chatting away. Ignis has collected him before, of course, and Gladio had dropped him off that morning but there’s something weird about seeing them both here at the same time.

It’s only when he’s climbing in behind Ignis that he realises it’s because he’s never seen Iggy in anything but the driver’s seat before.

“Hey baby,” Gladio says when Prompto’s pulled the door shut. And Prompto can’t _not_ blush or lean in between the seat to kiss his cheek. He hopes Ignis doesn’t mind and judging from the little smile on his face when Prompto settles back down he doesn’t.

“Hey,” Prompto says, “Do I need to go back in for food?”

Ignis laughs softly, “Not at all. We just went and picked up all we need for dinner.”

“Oh good,” Prompto says, relieved, “I’m _done_ with sushi.”

“Bad day?” Gladio asks, peering at him in the rear view mirror before putting the car into gear and pulling out into traffic.

“Was fine,” Prompto says quickly, too fast for either of them to take the words at face value.

“Boss a dick again?” Gladio asks.

Prompto sighs, “Yeah.” He doesn’t much feel like elaborating and neither of them press him for more while they head off. Nothing really happened at work, he didn’t get caught with his phone or yelled at or anything but there’s a certain air to the place when you know your boss is just one small minor imagined infraction from screaming his head off.

“How do meat pies sound?” Ignis says, “Cap off your day well?”

Prompto grins, “Sandwich a shitty day between two excellent meals,” Prompto says.

It’s hard to believe that it was only _that_ morning Gladio had asked him to be his boyfriend and taken him out for pancakes. After they were done in bed, of course.

Prompto can't forget that.

Literally.

He can still kind of feel it.

“You eat anything at work?” Gladio asks.

“Huh? No, I wasn’t even there that long,” Prompto tells him.

Ignis and Gladio share a look, it’s brief because Gladio needs to focus on the road but when he’s facing forwards again he frowns. Gladio makes an non-committal noise and for a second Prompto thinks he might be angry until he realises he’s _concerned_.

“I’m not even hungry,” Prompto tells him honestly.

Gladio smiles at him in the rear view again and once they’re on the main road moving steadily he reaches back between the front seats to squeeze Prompto’s knee.

It takes a while to get back to Noct’s in the rush hour traffic but Prompto tells Ignis, when he asks, that he had indeed text Noct back today and when Iggy had given Noct his phone back this afternoon Prompto had received a string of senseless and lewd emojis back.

“Charming,” Ignis says trying not to laugh, handing Prompto’s phone back to him.

They pull off the main road and the streets get quieter, Noctis lives in a fancy neighbourhood after all.

Prompto doesn’t actually know where Gladio lives he realises, wondering if it’ll be somewhere like Noct’s and if if it is will Prompto feel the same sense of discomfort he had the first couple times at Noct’s - a feeling that had only eased when he’d walked in to empty pizza boxes in the living room and towels on the bathroom floor.

Gladio _probably_ doesn’t leave wet towels on the bathroom floor.

Probably.

Prompto’s yanked out from his building anxiety by the engine cutting off, Gladio having reversed perfectly into a space next to a sleek black car that’s _not_ Iggy’s but in the space he always uses.

“Where’s your car?” Prompto blurts.

“Nyx brought Noct home, he or I will drive us all to the Citadel tomorrow and trade this car for my own,” Ignis explains easily.

“Hero joining us for dinner?” Gladio asks popping his door open.

Ignis shakes his head, “He’s gone for dinner with Crowe and Libertus. He’s taken his _motorcycle_.”

The last part he adds solely for Prompto’s benefit and Prompto wouldn’t even need to know Ignis as well as he does now to _feel_ Ignis disdain for Nyx’s transportation.

Prompto kind of gets it, he thinks motorbikes are cool but he absolutely doesn’t ever want to be on one.

Outside the car Prompto finally gets the contact he realises he’s been craving, leaning into Gladio’s side when he slips his arm around Prompto’s shoulders. Prompto sighs and Gladio chuckles, pressing a warm kiss to his head.

“Hi Freckles,” Gladio says.

Prompto hums and lets more of his weight rest against his boyfriend.

 _Boyfriend_.

Prompto’s never going to get tired of that.

“Things with your Dad were really okay?”

Gladio ruffles his hair and says, “Of course.”

“Shall I meet you upstairs?” Ignis asks, holding open the door to the stairs and elevator.

Gladio pulls back enough to peer down at his face, clearly letting him decide, and Prompto grins shaking his head. He slips out from Gladio’s arm and takes his hand instead.

“Our Prince awaits!” Prompto teases.

-

Ignis is just ladling filling - deliciously mouth watering smelling filling - into individual pie crusts when Noct tosses his phone to the side with a sigh. Prompto was totally kicking his ass but Noct will never admit it and Prompto’s not one to point it out in the moment. Might remind him about it at a later date though.

Noct stretches and when his shoulders inch back part of his spine cracks in a way that seems alarming _and_ satisfying.

Gladio looks up from where he’d settled in the arm chair just a few minutes ago, book in hand, and frowns. He catches Prompto’s eye and then digs out his phone, keying something into it before settling back to his book. Noct’s _probably_ got an appointment with his physio tomorrow.

“I’m gonna grab my formal wear,” Noct says, “Dinners not for a while?”

Ignis sighs, “If you wait until after I can help you.”

Which roughly translates to _I don’t trust you to do this by yourself_ in Ignis talk.

“Prompto can help me,” Noct says standing up and heading into his room before anyone can argue.

Gladio snorts, “Good luck, baby.”

Prompto stands and shoots Ignis a slightly frantic look, “Text me a list, Iggy?”

Ignis sighs _again_ , “There’s already one on his phone. Don’t let him fold the jackets and shirts please, it’ll take me forever to fix the damage.”

Prompto laughs and shoots Ignis a salute which makes him laugh too, Prompto’s proud of himself.

“Shut the door,” Noct almost hisses when Prompto steps through. On reflex Prompto follows the instruction, turning to look at Noct with confusion.

Noct’s sat on his bed with a broad shit eating grin on his face, he pats the space next to him and Prompto approaches feeling a little like a lamb heading for slaughter.

“Soooooooo,” Noct drawls, “Come on.”

Prompto laughs nervously, “What?”

“Tell me about last night,” Noct enthuses.

Prompto raises an eyebrow and Noct scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Anything that happened not in your bed.”

“Uh, well we definitely had the chat you wanna hear about on my bed, so…”

Noctis hits playfully at his arm and Prompto manages to deflect the second blow, laughing.

“I’ll talk,” Prompto offers, “If you pack.”

Noct groans and flops back onto the bed. “You’re mean,” he says.

“I’m _crafty_ ,” Prompto corrects.

Noct groans again and heaves himself up.

“Give me the list,” Prompto says holding out a grabby hand.

“It’s in my messages from Iggy,” Noct says, pulling open the door to his huge walk in closet, “Phone code is 1111.”

Prompto’s got Noct’s phone in hand before that information _truly_ registers in Prompto’s brain.

“Noct,” Prompto all but whispers, “ _No_.”

Noct sighs, reappearing from his wardrobe with a suit in each hand, “Not you too.”

“I’m sure there’s, like, _super_ sensitive information on here,” Prompto says, keying in the code and thumbing open the messaging app. Ignis has messaged Noct a _bit_ since the list so it takes him a moment to scroll up and find it, not really paying attention to anything in the other messages. Just in case.

“I never remember more complicated numbers,” Noct complains, “I already had to change the PIN for my debit card.”

“It _wasn’t_ ,” Prompto gasps.

“It was,” Noct mumbles, “And Iggy says they can’t be the same. So.”

Prompto blinks.

Noct’s going to run the country one day.

Prompto’s really glad Ignis exists. And not just because of those pies in the kitchen.

“You could at least, like, use someone's birthday - _not yours_ ,” Prompto says. Then, his face pulls up into a teasing grin and he adds, “Like _Luna’s_ maybe.”

“Shut up,” Noct says, cheeks turning a little pink, “Remind me what I need.”

Noct wiggles the suits and Prompto glances at the start of the list, “Four _true_ black suits - at least two with waistcoats -” Noct groans “- and two or more additional suits in charcoal or darker. Wow. The choice. The _variety_.”

Noct snorts and tosses the two suits onto the bed before he disappears back into the closet. Prompto hops up to rescue them, hanging them off the hook that Noctis _sometimes_ uses to hang his bathrobe. Not today though, today Noct’s bathrobe is just crumpled on the floor in a heap.

“So,” Noct calls, “How was it? I mean, obviously you guys are all _together_ now but -”

Noct reappears with two grey suits in hand and Prompto points at the lighter of the two, which has a pleasant but very subtle pattern waved into the fabric. It would probably be impossible to capture on camera.

Prompto really wants to _try_.

“It was really great - Gladio was _so_ sweet. Oh - Em - Gee, Noct - _Solarium_ -”

“Was it good?” Noct asks, poking his head out the closet again, empty handed this time, “It was totally my idea, by the way, in case Gladio tries to say otherwise.”

Prompto laughs, “He told me, _thank you_.”

Noct grins, looking pleased.

“It was amazing to see it in a theatre,” Prompto muses.

Noct’s expression dims, “You never saw it on a big screen in Gralea?” Prompto shakes his head. “But you had, like - _been_ to the movies right?”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “Duh.” Twice. But saying that probably wouldn’t help him out any right now.

“Gladio said you had breakfast together,” Noct says, voice dimming as he steps back inside. There’s a rustle and a grunt and a pair of shiny black shoes flies out of it one by one, landing on the bed with a bounce.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “I, uh - mentioned it last night and he took me this morning.”

“Because he stayed,” Noct says, voice smug, “When did he ask you? Or did he _not_ actually ask?”

“This morning,” Prompto says, then laughs, “There was a bit of a misunderstanding - I thought he was trying to end things.”

He can laugh about it _now_. This morning however it’d been like his world was imploding. He wants to go crawl into Gladio’s lap for a minute and remind himself that its okay now. Better than okay. Perfect.

There must have been something strange in Prompto’s voice though because Noct calls, “You okay?”

“Yeah - I’m really good. Great.”

Noct comes back out then, another suit in each hand. Both of these have waistcoats tucked under the jackets on the hangers.

“He makes you happy?” Noct asks seriously.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, gently, “Really happy.”

Noct grins, tossing both the new finds onto the bed and stepping forward to give Prompto a brief hug.

“Good,” he says stepping back, “I’ll kick his ass if that ever changes.”

And then he disappears back into his closet again.

Prompto laughs to himself as he hangs up the new finds, wedging them carefully onto the hook.

“You’ve changed your tune,” Prompto calls.

“I though it was strange before. But then I talked to you and I talked to _Gladio_ \- he’s fucking crazy about you dude - and you guys are actually perfect for each other. I just want you all to be happy,” Noct says back.

“I am,” Prompto tells him again, “I think this might all be a dream and I’m gonna wake up in my shitty shared house in Gralea any second but - still, happy.”

Prompto can just make out Noct’s low chuckle before -

“Ah ha!” Noct calls from the back of his closet, “Variety!”

Prompto perks with interest. Honestly, he _likes_ black, more than half his own wardrobe is black and he wouldn’t want it any other way. But it seems Noct’s ‘royal’ closet is just an _endless_ stream of it in pretty much the same fabric - Noct has very specific taste. Even the grey is too dark to really be considered _grey_ to Prompto so he’s not exactly expecting much from whatever Noct’s found but it turns out to be enough to make Pormpto wonder if it technically falls within Iggy’s guidelines.

“Ooo pinstripes,” Prompto enthuses, “I like it.”

Noct hands him the hanger but onto the bed he tosses another garment, “Matching waistcoat too.”

“Score!” Prompto says, casually retrieving it and trying to hook it over the overflowing hook.

“We should go dump some of that,” Noct muses and together they carry half each back into the living room. Prompto carefully lays his down in the bottom of the case, wondering the best way to actually pack suit jackets - Prompto doesn’t own one he has _no_ idea - but his carefulness is kind of for nothing when Noct just unceremoniously throws his on top.

Prompto scrambles to fix it and Noct snorts, “It’ll all get pressed at the Citadel anyway.”

“Yes,” Ignis says from the kitchen where he’s testing the crust on one of the pies - Prompto’s stomach gurgles eagerly - “But I’d much appreciate less of a work load thank you.”

Noct frowns, “I didn’t think _you_ did it.”

Ignis slides the pie back into the oven and then pushes his glasses up with the back of his hand, “You want other people rummaging around in your things?”

Noct shakes his head but leans down to arrange the clothes more carefully. Prompto helps him separate the pants from the hangers and fold them into the suitcase and they gently stack the jackets in a pile, careful not to fold any of the arms in.

As he folds a waistcoat in half along it’s back he glances up at Ignis, suddenly worried but Ignis just gives him a half smile and a nod so Prompto just wedges it alongside the pinstripe pants and hopes it doesn’t crinkle too badly.

“I’m just serving up,” Ignis calls and Gladio and Noct both head off to the dining table where cutlery has been laid out for them all. Prompto walks to the kitchen to ask -

“Need any help?”

Ignis says, “No, thank you.”

Prompto pouts at him and Ignis laughs.

“Very well,” Ignis tells him, spooning some vegetables onto two plates, more on one than the other, “Take these to Gladio and Noct, please.”

“Extra carrots for Noct, right?” Prompto asks tone mockingly serious and loud so the others can here.

“I _hate_ you,” Noct calls.

Laughing Prompto delivers the plates, giving Noct the one he might _actually_ eat and asks, “Drinks?”

“You know you’re not at work, right?” Gladio asks gripping his wrist to stop him escaping immediately.

Prompto shrugs, “You want something to drink?”

Gladio shakes his head fondly, “I’ll have some water _if_ you’re getting yourself something.”

Prompto skips back to the kitchen, getting himself and Gladio glasses of water and grabbing cans of soda and Ebony for Noct and Iggy respectively. Ignis has gotten the other two plates to the table by the time Prompto’s setting everyone’s drinks in front of them but he feels better knowing he didn’t just leave Ignis to do everything himself.

Prompto takes his seat and waits for everyone else to cut into their pies before following suit.

Top three dinners ever. For real.

-

Gladio makes the decision to drive them home when Prompto starts drowsing against him on the couch. He’d gone through all of Ignis’ list on Noct’s phone with the prince, trying to keep Noct on track when it inevitably got boring and tedious. Ignis had carefully packed everything away safely, lamenting a lack of garment bags for the suits but also acknowledging how awkward it would have been to travel the nine or so they would have needed for everything.

Apparently Noct was supposed to start moving stuff over to the Citadel a couple weeks back and had just _not_ for whatever Noct-logic reason.

“You want me to carry you down?” Gladio teases as Prompto sits up rubbing his eye.

“No,” Prompto mutters, “Dunno why I’m so tired.”

Gladio’s hand strokes softly over the back of his head, “Long day,” he says.

Prompto yawns and slumps slightly against Gladio.

Noct laughs, “Dude.”

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbles.

“Come on,” Gladio says, “Before I _have_ to carry you down.”

Prompto hops to his feet before Gladio can make a grab for him and gently slaps at his face to wake himself up a little.

Noct snorts and raises a fist into the air from where he’s sprawled on his end of the couch, “Laters.”

Prompto bumps his fist against Noct's and then Ignis walks out with them, riding down in the elevator until his floor where he bids them goodnight.

Tucked in behind the car from the Citadel is motorbike.

“Do they live together?” Prompto asks Gladio, smiling and blushing when Gladio opens the passenger door for him.

“Huh?”

“Iggy and Nyx, do they live together?”

Gladio climbs into the car, grinning.

“They pretend they don’t,” Gladio says, “ _But_ I’m pretty sure Libertus and Crowe are renting his room to someone else now.”

Prompto giggles, “That seems like, Iggy.”

Gladio carefully pulls out of the parking garage, flicking the radio on but turning it down low so it barely registers as background music.

“Is it far?” Prompto asks.

Gladio shakes his head, “More towards suburbs.”

“Near your family’s house?”

Gladio tilts his head, “It’s a pretty even split between Noct’s, the Citadel and home. Not too far from you if the traffic is good.”

“Handy,” Prompto says and then he yawns again, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Gladio says, “We’ll only be a few minutes but if you wanna drop off -”

“No, no. I’m good.”

It really doesn’t take long at all and soon enough they’re pulling into another underground parking area in building that’s not quite as tall and imposing as Noct and Iggy’s.

“Wow,” Prompto says as the gate pulls in automatically behind them, “Fancy.”

“It’s more than I need,” Gladio says oddly fast.

“Is it as big as Noct’s?” Prompto asks, just so he’s prepared.

“No way, two bedrooms but one of them just sits empty because I don’t need an office or anything. Don’t let the fancy kitchen fool you either, Ignis put all that stuff in there and I’ve barely used it.”

Prompto’s pleased he’s not the only one that’s less than confident in the kitchen and he laughs even if it is cut off by yet another yawn. Honestly he has no excuse for being this tired. Gladio might say he’s had a long day but Prompto’s certainly had longer days than this. Shittier days, by far.

“Lets get you inside, Baby,” Gladio says giving his knee a quick squeeze.

Prompto goes hot all at once and waits patiently for Gladio to collect the couple bags off the back seat and come round to open his door for him, willing the colour off his face.

Prompto steps out as soon as there’s space, blush only deepening when Gladio cups his face with his free hand, brushing his thumb along Prompto’s cheek.

“What is it?” Gladio asks gently.

“N-nothing,” Prompto stutters, averting his gaze.

“Prom,” Gladio says with a laugh and the shortened version of his name only makes things _worse_.

“It’s just - I’m not used to you - or anyone - calling me, like, pet names and stuff,” Prompto explains.

“I call you Baby all the time,” Gladio points out.

Which -

True.

But not like _this_.

Prompto manages to roll his eyes, “Its different when we’re in _bed_.”

“Uh huh,” Gladio deadpans, moving his hand from his face to Prompto’s own, gently pulling him towards and through a large door, “Lets get upstairs, _Sweet Cheeks_.”

Prompto assumed it would lead to a stairwell but instead he’s taken through to a plain but modern looking foyer where the force of his laugh catches the attention of the security guard. Desperately uncomfortable under the man’s attention Prompto presses himself against Gladio’s side to make it clear that he was _invited_ here and not just some random kid off the street.

Prompto’s straightens up again when they cross the threshold of the elevator.

“Please tell me you don’t have the penthouse,” Prompto whispers - half joking.

Gladio shakes his head and presses a button for the eighteenth floor - Prompto notices there’s half a dozen floors above it. Prompto turns to bury a yawn in Gladio’s chest, sinking against him when Gladio wraps an arm around his shoulders supportively.

“Have you got work in the morning?” Gladio asks.

Prompto blinks up at him, “Nah, I might go work on some pictures for my portfolio.” Then remembering the laundry list of personal projects he wants to do he adds, “Though, I’ve been neglecting my sketchbook so I might do that instead. You?”

“Not gotta head in early for anything,” Gladio says, “We’re winding down a bit for Solstice, so I can drop you home before I go in if you want.”

“That’d be nice,” Prompto says softly, pleased he doesn’t have to try and find the nearest bus stop. Not that he wouldn’t. He would. And it’d be worth it.

The noise the elevator makes his jarring and Prompto’s still a little startled by it when Gladio takes his hand to lead him to one of the three doors on the floor.

It’s a nice apartment, one that could probably hold all of Prompto’s four times over. Open plan with a nice kitchen dividing off a third of the main room with almost every wall lined with bookcases and decorated in dark wood and warm brown leather. Gladio has _actual_ wood flooring that Prompto didn’t think existed anywhere but Noct’s apartment but topped off with a cosy looking rustic patterned rug.

It’s a really _nice_ apartment.

Prompto feels a little small.

“Kitchen is here,” Gladio tells him and Prompto chooses not to say _duh_ when he spots the slightly nervous set of Gladio’s jaw, “Bedroom is that door on the right, main bathroom in the middle, other door is empty.”

Prompto nods, assuming from the words _main_ bathroom that there’s a second one somewhere.

Wild.

Prompto kicks out of his shoes and wanders over to the bookcases nearest the TV while Gladio rummages through his bags. Easily he finds what seems to be the section of spectacularly trashy romance novels but nothing that he’s familiar with. Prompto’s only _just_ finished reading the books Gladio had given him recently but that doesn’t mean he’s not absolutely ready for the next and, presumably, final instalment.

Prompto glances over at Gladio and notices his hand is outstretched, stood by the bedroom door. Prompto abandons his search and rushes over, slipping his hand into Gladio’s.

“I need the next book,” Prompto confesses, “I was gonna steal it.”

“Its not even out yet,” Gladio says, “You gotta wait for the new year like the rest of us.”

“Ah man. How could you do this to me?” Prompto whines.

“ _I’m_ not writing them,” Gladio defends with a deep chuckle.

“But you made me read them,” Prompto argues.

“I’m fairly certain you fished it out from under a coffee table of your own accord,” Gladio says.

“Unimportant detail,” Prompto mumbles

Gladio’s bed is _huge_ because of course it is. Slatted wooden headboard and a dark red comforter that Prompto wants to just _dive_ into immediately.

“Wow,” he says, realising he _can_.

Prompto takes a few steps forward and just drops onto his belly across Gladio’s bed.

“So this is what a mattress feels like when eleven other people haven’t used it first,” Prompto marvels, voice all garbled from where his face is pressed into plush bedding.

Gladio laughs and then teases, “I doubt the university keeps mattresses for _eleven_ years. But please tell me you have a decent mattress topper.”

Prompto wriggles over onto his back and replies, “I’ve always had one but then Iggy found out which one and he turned up at my apartment one day with a _new_ one and swapped it out.”

“That sounds like Iggy,” Gladio echoes.

Prompto grins and tugs Gladio in when he leans over to kiss him. Prompto’s _exhausted_ but he could be easily persuaded into something a little slow, let Gladio fuck his mouth and then take him apart afterwards with his hands.

Gladio kisses him a little chastely, pulling back so their bodies aren’t pressed together.

“You want a shower or anything?” Gladio offers, holding out a bottle, “I bought some shit that I thought smells a bit like you.”

Prompto glances at it and sees a label abundant in pictures of citrus fruits. It makes him laugh and he sits up to take it in hand.

“This is fancier than the stuff I buy,” Prompto admits, thumbing the cap open to smell it. It smells like his normal stuff but _better_. Prompto’s oddly flattered that Gladio seems to know him so well.

“But I’ll take you up on that in the morning if that’s okay?” Prompto checks, too tired to face standing under hot water for ten minutes. He’s likely to fall asleep standing up.

“Of course,” Gladio says easily and then he’s slipping something else into Prompto’s hand, “Though you’ll want this now.”

 _This_ turns out to be a bright yellow toothbrush. Cartoon chocobos dancing about the handle. Prompto never even had fun toothbrushes as a kid, just plain white ones that had their names written on them in permanent marker.

Gladio laughs at whatever his face is doing then points at the door on the other side of the room. There’s a set of double door next to it but they’re shorter so Prompto supposes Gladio has a walk in closet too. It would surprise Prompto to learn Gladio has enough clothes to _fill_ a walk in closet but stranger things have happened.

“Bathroom is there, go do whatever you want and I’ll get something for you to sleep in. I just need to put the groceries away and then I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll help,” Prompto offers quickly, trying to climb off the bed but Gladio distracts him with a firm kiss and insists -

“Just get comfy, I won’t be long.”

Prompto doesn’t have the wherewithal to argue with so he lets Gladio walk back out of the room and then scrambles off to the bathroom.

 _Also_ kind of fancy, with a huge shower, but then _Gladio’s_ huge so he guesses that’s fair. Prompto slips the shower wash into the little basket alongside Gladio’s shampoo and then quickly finds toothpaste by the sink and thoroughly brushes his teeth. His contacts pop out straight into the trash, thankful all over again that he’s not going to have to make his own way home in the morning.

He blinks at his blurry face in the mirror and spares a moment to splash it with some cool water.

Back in the bedroom a t-shirt has been put on the end of the bed so Prompto strips out of his clothes and leaves them in a neat pile beside Gladio’s half empty laundry basket and pulls the large garment over him.

It’s soft and the logo is faded and it _smells_ good, absolutely everything Prompto had been hoping for when he requested something from Gladio as a joke earlier.

Prompto’s not sure which side of the bed Gladio sleeps but notices a phone charger trailing on one side and makes an assumption so he pulls down the covers and climbs in on the opposite side. Prompto unsnaps the band from his unmarked wrist and stashes it along with the two bracelets he wears onto the bedside table.

But is that weird? Will Gladio notice that he took some off but not all of them?

He’s never questioned it before, never reached for them to try and take them off, never questioned why Prompto’s always wearing them.

It feels like a lie again, a burning twinge of shame deep in his gut that Gladio doesn’t _know_. That he _should_ know.

Prompto shifts slightly, rolling more onto his stomach, but not pulling the covers up in the hope he’ll still be awake when Gladio climbs into bed.

It doesn’t matter that Gladio doesn’t know, Prompto thinks, that’s what Noct would say. If he were there he’s tell Prompto that it’s no ones business but his own. That it doesn’t matter who knows or not because it has no bearing on who Prompto is as a person.

It’s a hard thing to believe, when he’s been told the opposite his entire life.

But he’s trying.

Gladio comes into the room quietly, offering Prompto a smile that quells some of the twisting thoughts in his head and slips into the bathroom. Prompto snuggles down into the pillow and waits as patiently as he can for the five or so minutes it takes Gladio to come back out. He sheds most of his clothes into the laundry basket and then shuts off the main light in favour of his bedside lamp.

Gladio slips into the bed behind him, pulling up the covers and - already dozing - Prompto blearily tries to turn himself over so he can press into Gladio’s chest. Gladio stops him by lining up against Prompto’s back all warm skin and strong arms, dropping a kiss to Prompto's neck fondly.

“Comfy enough?” Gladio rumbles.

Prompto tries to say _yes_ and _thank you_ but his mouth feels heavy and uncooperative. All he can really manage is a little wiggle that sets him more securely into the cradle of Gladio’s body. Prompto sighs when Gladio kisses the back of his neck again.

“G’night baby.”

Prompto feels across the arm wrapped over his belly until he finds fingers that he can squeeze.

\- - -

Prompto wakes up alone and a little disorientated.

It would probably be easier if he could see a hundred percent but as he slowly crawls back to full consciousness he remembers why that can’t be for the time being.

Prompto stretches across the bed, star-fishing all his limbs every which way and sure, he’d prefer it if Gladio were still here, but this is pretty nice too.

That being _said_ -

Prompto forces himself away from the comfiest bed he’s ever slept in - sorry Noct’s spare room - and patters out of Gladio’s bedroom in search of him on sleep clumsy legs.

He finds Gladio - or the Gladio shaped mass anyway - in his kitchen area accompanied by the faint hum of an oven and stirring something? Maybe?

Prompto makes his way across the living area, coming up short when his leg collides painfully with something in his path.

“Careful, Freckles,” Gladio chides softly as Prompto’s stares down at the huge couch he somehow didn’t notice.

Prompto rubs at his eye hoping despite all previous evidence to the contrary that it will help him focus better on his surroundings.

“I don’t have my glasses with me,” Prompto admits.

Gladio’s voice betrays his surprise _and_ excitement even if Prompto can’t quite make out his expression properly. Prompto takes a step back from the couch and then walks around it with a wide berth to prevent further accidents.

“I didn’t know you needed them. Man I bet that’s _cute_.”

It’s inevitable really, if he and Gladio are going to start spending nights together that he’ll see Prompto wearing them sooner or later. Prompto wishes he _could_ avoid it though. Not everyone pulls off frames as well as Ignis does.

Now within arms reach Prompto swings out to playfully swat at Gladio’s bare chest in reprimand for being called _cute_ but he completely misses and just finds himself tugged right into the circle of Gladio’s arms.

Zero complaints.

Gladio snorts into his hair and says, “I seriously pegged you for a morning person.”

“I am,” Prompto says and he _is_ truly a morning person. Hard wired to be up and about early, struggling with late nights when he doesn’t have something to hyper focus on.

“I just do like eighty-six percent of my waking up either in the shower or on my run.”

Gladio hums and rubs his big hands up Prompto’s spine.

“You want a shower before I attempt to feed you?” he asks.

Prompto perks, both at the thought of food and the _idea_ that suddenly gives him. He winds his arms up around Gladio’s broad shoulders and goes up on tiptoes, squinting to focus on his face.

“Is yours big enough for two?” Prompto asks. Because Prompto’s shower is absolutely not in any way appropriate for two people – not even two Prompto sized people. Prompto’s surprised Gladio even really fit in it yesterday.

Gladio hauls him off his feet so fast he’s hard pushed to suppress his squeak. Prompto clings on tighter with his arms and secures his legs around Gladio’s waist.

Prompto’s half hard already. It’s insane. No one should be this hot.

“You’re terrible,” Gladio moans barely letting Prompto be jostled as he moves them from the room, “Here I am trying to show you its not all about sex -”

“Wow,” Prompto deadpans, “Way to make an assumption. It’s like you think I’m _easy_ or something.”

Gladio gets them through the bathroom door and immediately reaches into the shower to turn the water on.

Prompto _expects_ Gladio to tease back, maybe kiss him while they wait for the shower to heat up, definitely strip him of the t-shirt and boxer briefs he slept in. Instead Gladio just takes a big step forward, depositing them both under the icy spray.

This time Prompto _does_ squeal, a truly shrill sound and subconsciously leans closer into Gladio’s body for warmth, dipping his head down to kiss him even as he giggles from the shock.

As the water warms against his back Gladio lowers Prompto to his feet and helps him pull of his sodden t-shirt. Gladio pushes down his sweats and Prompto hurriedly shucks his boxers. Gladio’s eyes burn him in a good way as he stares down at Prompto, water running over his shoulders and down his body. Prompto lets himself drown in the sensation for a moment, staring up into Gladio’s intense face.

Then Gladio’s hand is on his wrist, fingers searching for the clasp on his wristband and Prompto freezes, dead cold.

Terrified.

Prompto snatches it back roughly, cradling it protectively against his chest.

Prompto could let him take it off. He could let Gladio see his tattoo and come clean, know _now_ , once and for all what that means for them…

But he _can’t_.

He _can’t_.

It might only be a two percent chance Gladio will send him on his way when he finds out but Prompto’s not ready to take that chance. He’s not had enough of Gladio yet.

“It’s getting wet,” Gladio points out, confused.

“I want to - need to keep it on,” Prompto says, hating the way his wobbles.

It’s only after he says it that he realises _this_ might be even be it, this oddity of Prompto’s might be abhorrent to Gladio. Just this in itself.

This secret.

Prompto attempts to shrink back against the shower wall, bracing himself for -

“Okay,” Gladio breathes, warm hands coming up to cup Prompto’s face. Gladio angles Prompto’s face up and dips down to press their mouths together. “Whatever you want,” Gladio promises and Prompto’s not sure how but he can just tell he means it.

Prompto pushes up on his toes to kiss him again and slot their bodies together. He wriggles against Gladio for a second then reaches between them to start stroking Gladio’s dick, working the impressive length to full hardness.

Gladio submits to him easily, one hand cradling the back of his head carefully and the other pressing against the small of Prompto’s back to make it easier for them to kiss.

Prompto sighs as his stress falls off him under Gladio’s mouth and hands and Gladio pulls back just enough to ask, “What do you want?”

Prompto wants to be pinned against the shower wall and have the memory of what just happened fucked out of him, wants Gladio to open him up with his mouth again, all slick and hot. Prompto wants Gladio to fuck _his_ mouth and see if Prompto can get all the way down to the base with a better angle.

“Hmm. Will you wash my hair?” Prompto asks coyly.

Gladio seems, understandably, surprised by the request but agrees readily enough even though he doesn’t seem to understand what Prompto’s angling for.

“Better make it easy for you then,” Prompto muses dropping down onto his knees.

It makes more noise than Prompto was expecting and honestly kind of smarts but he distracts himself by mouthing at Gladio’s tip and licking up the water running over it. Gladio gives a low groan and tangles his hand into Prompto’s hair, tugging at it teasingly.

“Shit, baby,” Gladio bites out as Prompto sinks further onto him. Gladio reaches with his other hand for his little shower caddie and Prompto chuckles around his length, surprised Gladio took him so seriously.

Gladio abandons his search, reaching simply to turn the water down a little before bringing that hand round to Prompto's jaw, letting his thumb trace around where Prompto’s mouth is pulled wide around his dick. Prompto adjusts his stance against the floor, trying to find a comfortable angle to tilt his head further, to slip more of Gladio into his mouth - throat - without having to pull back.

Prompto runs his hands up Gladio’s thighs and the big guy hisses when Prompto pulls back a little to catch his breath and lave at the sensitive area just under Gladio’s head.

“Shit,” Gladio mutters and his hips flex forward just once before he seems to steel himself, knees locking and jaw tense.

Prompto makes a noise of dissent and bobs down onto Gladio again, sinking on and off a few times before pulling off completely and leaning in to nuzzle the base.

“Gladio,” Prompto says quietly, voice already just a touch rough.

“What do you want, baby?” Gladio asks.

Prompto blushes, nerves silencing him for half a second. He nuzzles Gladio again and says meekly, “Fuck my mouth?”

It isn’t really supposed to come out as a question but for some reason it does.

Gladio laughs, just a little and gently pulls Prompto away from his dick with the hold on his hair. It doesn’t hurt or pull in any way but Prompto still whines, all need, in the back of his throat, a shot of arousal making his own dick twitch. Gladio leans down and Prompto straightens up as much as possible to make it easer if them to kiss.

Gladio strokes down the column of Prompto’s throat when he pulls back.

“That’s what you want?”

Prompto nods quickly.

“You won’t let me hurt you?” Gladio checks.

Prompto shakes his head so fast he almost makes himself dizzy, movement small and abrupt in Gladio’s hold. Prompto reaches for Gladio’s dick again, stroking him while Gladio kisses his mouth once more. Prompto squeezes Gladio’s thighs again to reassure him and it seems to work.

Gladio straightens up and replaces Prompto’s hand with his own, tilting Prompto’s head back by his hair. Prompto drops his mouth open eagerly accepting Gladio back into his mouth, moaning at the salty burst of precome that hits his tongue.

At first his thrusts are tentative, Gladio doesn’t even take away his hand, stopping himself from thrusting too deep too fast. Prompto doesn’t mind, even as much as he wants Gladio to just _wreck_ him, he knows that Gladio has to get used to it, has to trust himself as much as Prompto does.

Prompto goes lax as Gladio moves, sinking into the feeling of Gladio taking his own pleasure in Prompto’s mouth, the pleasure of being _used_. It’s a fight to keep his eyes open, to focus on Gladio’s face or his tight clenched abdomen when all they want to do is flutter closed and let Prompto lose himself completely in action.

Gladio inhales sharply and his next thrust sinks him deeper, nudges his head into Prompto’s throat and Prompto tries to swallow around it, entice him _deeper_ but Gladio’s already pulling back, panting with some concealed effort.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Gladio murmurs and if Prompto wasn’t already boiling from the inside he would have gone hot from his shoulders to the top of his ears. “Gods, baby,” Gladio carries on, “I can’t -”

He cuts off with a slightly more abrupt thrust, his fingers brushing against Prompto’s mouth where he still has a hold of himself. Prompto moans around him, his dick throbbing with need as Gladio sets up a faster rhythm, finally taking Prompto in line with how he normally would. It’s oddly blissful and Prompto suspects his cock is drooling his as his mouth, thankful for the water splashing around them.

Gladio groans, a rough choke of a noise as his thrusts lose rhythm.

“Fuck, baby - Freckles. Gonna come -”

Prompto pulls in Gladio’s hold to tilt his head back just a little further so Gladio slips in smoother, fingers tight on Gladio’s _almost_ shaking thighs. Gladio lets go of his dick, sinking deeper but not all the way in still and Prompto’s eyes do flutter shut as Gladio cries out, bursting hot and wet onto the back of Prompto's tongue.

The fingers in Prompto’s hair loosen and he pulls his head back in a slow slide, to lap at the ends of Gladio’s dick, playing with his slit and cleaning up every last drop of spend.

Prompto glances up and Gladio’s head is hanging forward, staring at him with open awe, one arm braced against the shower wall. Prompto feels a spike of pride at that. _Prompto_ did that. Or at least his body did.

Gladio takes in a deep breath and exhales roughly. His fingers tighten in Prompto’s hair again.

“Come here,” Gladio grunts and between the hand in his hair and a rough grip on Prompto’s upper arm Gladio helps him stagger to his feet, knees almost locked in position. Gladio bends down and they’re kissing before Prompto’s fully upright.

Prompto goes up onto his tip toes, pressing himself up against Gladio’s body, shamelessly rutting his cock against Gladio’s thigh.

“I’ve got you,” Gladio says and Prompto sighs in relief only to cut off in a sharp whine when Gladio suddenly grabs him by both hips and pushes him away slightly.

“No,” Prompto gasps, “Gladio -”

“I’ve got you,” Gladio repeats, turning Prompto around and pulling him back flush, his spine against Gladio’s chest with his still mostly hard dick nestled between Prompto’s ass cheeks.

Gladio takes a lose hold of Prompto’s cock and he thrusts into Gladio's fist recklessly for a few moments until Gladio’s bracing across Prompto's torso with his spare arm to keep him completely still.

“Uh uh,” Gladio teases, “I said _I_ got you.”

Prompto moans, tossing his head back against Gladio’s shoulder as he’s worked over, torturously slow, toes curling against the slick bathroom tiles.

Prompto’s already throbbing in Gladio’s hold despite having barely been touched and all it really takes is a dozen measured strokes with a calculated twist underneath his head and a soft pinch to one of his nipples and Prompto’s back is arching within Gladio’s hold and spilling himself onto the white tiles.

“Shit,” Prompto mutters feeling drained like he’s just run ten miles.

“Good?” Gladio murmurs, kissing Prompto’s shoulder.

“Mmm,” Prompto hums.

“You’re amazing,” Gladio says matter of fact. He pats Prompto’s hip and says, “Come on.”

Prompto manages to get his feet steady underneath him and Gladio carefully turns Prompto around again. Gladio adjusts the shower spray so a steadier stream of water flows again, still hot despite all the time they’ve spent in here and Prompto feels Gladio’s fingers under his chin tilting his head back so his hair falls under the stream of water, wetting through.

“What are you doing?” Prompto asks.

Gladio kisses his nose, “Washing your hair.”

Prompto laughs but stands still and obediently closes his eyes as Gladio lathers his hair thoroughly, fingers particularly gentle after their play.

When his hair is rinsed and lather free Gladio asks, “You want conditioner too?”

Part of Prompto is surprised that's even an option but he knows first hand how soft the strands of Gladio’s long hair are and realises its actually pretty obvious.

Prompto usually uses two in one stuff. It's cheaper.

“Duh,” he says, closing his eyes again.

\- - -

[Noct 20:11] the dinner is fine because its mostly like family adjacent people

[Noct 20:12] gladios family, ignis, cor and like people that have been in my dads staff for ages

[Noct 20:13] but then we have a drinks thing after and all the council are invited and stuff and its all the ancient ones that turn up hoping to get my dad to agree to conservative bullshit when hes three drinks in

[Prompto 20:14] rude. sounds like treason to me.

[Noct 20:15] IF ONLY

[Noct 20:15] fingers crossed theyre dead before i take the throne

[Noct 20:16] that was really bad. i shouldnt have said that

[Prompto 20:17] it’ll be our little secret my best dude

[Noct 20:18] thanks ＼(★^∀^★)／

[Noct 20:19] wait

[Noct 20:19] hold the fucking door

[Prompto 20:20] *holds door*

[Noct 20:21] prom. what are you doing?

[Prompto 20:22] um. moogleflix and art stuff. why?

[Noct 20:23] not now you doofus. for solstice?

[Prompto 20:24] oh! i’m gonna go take pictures down town while its deserted because i think thats gonna be the coolest thing ever. all those streets in central deserted?

[Prompto 20:25] and my boss offered me a closing shift at time and a half because it’s ‘unsociable’

Prompto’s phone suddenly blurts out the national chocobo anthem so loudly he jumps, dropping the phone to the floor and then having to wiggle his hand under his couch to retrieve it.

“Hello?”

“ _No_ ,” Noct says.

Prompto pulls the phone away from his ear to frown at it. He puts it back.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“ _I mean_ ,” Noct stresses, “ _That you absolutely cannot spend Solstice alone and working_.”

Prompto rolls his eyes.

“I think actually I can, but maybe we should check with Ignis because he understands rules better than us,” Prompto says sarcastically.

Noct doesn’t say anything for a moment and there’s a brief rustling noise. When Noct speak next his voice sounds different, a little further away but still clear.

“ _Ignis_ ,” Noct says, “ _Tell Prompto he’s not allowed to_ work _on Solstice_.”

“ _I think_ Prompto _is in charge of what Prompto does_ ,” Ignis says.

Prompto laughs, “Hi, Iggy.”

“ _Good evening, Prompto. I hope you’re well_ ,” Ignis says kindly.

Noct sighs, “ _Guys, come on_.”

“ _I’m not sure what you were expecting to happen,_ ” Ignis says.

“ _Thought you’d be on my side_ ,” Noct mutters. Louder he asks, “ _Why can’t Prompto come to the Citadel? He won’t be alone and we’ll have someone to help balance out the assholes.”_

Ignis pauses and then says, “ _Perhaps not_ this _year, Noct_.”

Prompto’s not allowed in the Citadel. Not past the visitor floors anyhow, but then almost no one is so he’s not particularly offended. Thinks it would probably make pretty pictures though.

“ _So I’ll blow it off_ ,” Noct says, “ _And hang out with Prompto_.”

“ _Noct_ ,” Prompto and Ignis say at the same time.

“ _You know you can’t do that_ ,” Ignis adds softly.

The rustling noise happens again for longer this time and then Prompto recognises the distinct sound of a door being shut sharply. Not _slammed_ , but definitely not gently pushed closed.

“Noct,” Prompto says, “You know I’m not upset right? About working and stuff?”

“ _I think it would be easier if you were_ ,” Noct says.

“Huh?”

“ _Like_ ,” Noct says obviously hesitant, “ _I guess doing kinda nothing is normal for you_.”

“Well, yeah,” Prompto says, “I didn’t even know Solstice was a _thing_ until I was ten and then the group home had like a few _ancient_ decorations and we’d have a traditional Niflheim fruit pudding after dinner.”

“ _Like a pie_?” Noct asks, suddenly perking up, “ _Could Iggy make you one_?”

“Ugh, no,” Prompto groans, “Like a weird steamed thing with raisins in it and like _animal fat_. It’s so nasty.”

“ _Gross_.”

“Yeah, I don’t miss it at all,” Prompto assures him.

“ _There’s nothing you miss_?” Noct asks, “ _Like, you don’t want me to rent a snow machine or something_?”

“Absolutely not,” Prompto says quickly, “I hate snow, dude. Hate it.”

There’s a long pause and Prompto’s well versed in the absence of noise Noct makes while he’s gearing up to say something he’s worried about saying. Usually it’s something Noct thinks is embarrassing and Prompto thinks is cute. So he waits.

“ _I don’t want you to be alone_ ,” Noct says eventually, “ _Like at all, but especially on a holiday_.”

Prompto smiles.

That _was_ pretty cute.

And he’d honestly prefer it too, but he’s not sure it’s a completely reasonable expectation in life to _never_ be alone. Prompto’s pre-Insomnia is a pretty solid example of that.

“Dude,” Prompto teases, “You’ll make me cry.”

Noct snorts, “ _Shut up_.”

Prompto stays silent, mostly to be a troll and Noct groans after a minute.

“ _I didn’t mean - you’re the worst you know that_?” Noct asks, “ _Does Gladio know_?”

“Huh? Uh - I guess. I mean, he’s knows I’m not going back - that I don’t have any family y’know. But he’ll be busy, right? With his family and then with you.”

“ _I mean he has plans yeah. But that's not really what I was getting at - he’s not gonna be too busy to_ think _about you_ ,” Noct says.

Prompto had kind of thought that Gladio _would_ actually be too busy to think about him. He knows Gladio _loves_ his family, is unwaveringly dedicated to his little sister and a fledgling relationship with Prompto hardly seems like something that would even register on his _things to worry about on Solstice_ radar.

“ _Prom_?”

“Sorry,” Prompto says, “Uh - I guess I hadn’t thought about it.”

Noct hums thoughtfully, “ _You working Monday night_?”

“Solstice eve-eve?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Noct laughs, “ _Solstice eve-eve. You working_?”

“Nah, last day of freedom for a few days,” Prompto says.

“ _Well you have plans now_ ,” Noct says, “ _You. Me. Arcade friend-date._ ”

Prompto grins, “Sounds amazing.”

“ _I have a meeting until three but I’ll thrown on jeans and pick you up before four, okay? We’ll game, get terrible arcade pizza and fries and play overpriced two player arcade games until we drop_.”

\- - -

Prompto has yet another shitty day at work on Saturday.

Erinn explains that its always like this at this time of year. People short tempered on the run up to the holiday, eager for the several days offices close so Insomnians can celebrate the Solstice holiday.

Niflheim celebrates too, technically, but they don’t really have the same traditions. Family dinners, sure, but the traditional Niflheim food is considerably different though and their old fashioned decorations are all carved wood and stone, bare branches hung with lanterns that got pushed out to metal sculptures and neon lights as the nation pushed towards technological advances.

Insomnia might not have snow like other parts of Lucis and Tenebrae do but Prompto thinks he much prefers this to anything he’s ever known before.

Even if he’s not going to experience it the way most people do.

Prompto is more than happy to get up early on Sunday morning to head to to _Insomnia Ink_ , not even a little perturbed when Eli mentions they might have a lot to do today because Eli’s getting on a ferry at nine o’clock and that means they _probably_ need to get the shop ready to close up until the new year.

It’s mostly cleaning work but Eli stops Prompto just before lunch - when Prompto’s sure the smell of bleach is permanently burned into his nose hair - and tells him to mock up a little _closed for the holidays_ sign on the computer. It’s a nice reprieve from the cleaning.

Gladio strolls in a little early, shamelessly calling Prompto over to him so he can give him a warm peck on the cheek. In complete full view of Eli.

Gladio doesn’t seem to notice Prompto’s faint bleach smell _or_ Eli’s shit eating grin.

The ramen joint they stop in to pick up dinner is festooned in coloured lights with a miniature - but very real - Solstice tree sat on the counter. Prompto likes it and wonders if _he_ might have the spare money next year to have a little tree and maybe buy a wreath for his door. Probably _not_ but its a nice idea.

Gladio puts their order in and they head over to a corner to wait for it, Gladio’s arm draped loosely over Prompto’s shoulders with Prompto turned in towards Gladio’s body not because he _needs_ the warmth but because he likes it.

There’s a TV fixed high up in the corner above the counter playing the news with the sound off and somehow it’s oddly fascinating to watch the headlines scroll past. Prompto catches the tail end of something about the Citadel but none of his friends or his _boyfriend_ have mentioned anything so Prompto doesn’t really care enough to pay attention long enough to catch it when it comes round again.

He settles against Gladio and even closes his eyes, worried about whatever had bothered Gladio during his appointment but not _too_ worried because Gladio’s posture is so relaxed. Prompto’s pretty sure _he’s_ the only one still worried about it. In his back pockets Prompto’s phone vibrates for two short buzzes - a new text - and he stifles a yawn as he pulls it free.

[Eli 20:37] Still nothing going on, huh?

Prompto laughs in surprise and Gladio makes an inquisitive noise so Prompto tilts the phone up for him to read. Gladio snorts and kisses the top of his head. An older couple across the room from them suddenly starts up a whispered conversation and Prompto tries to tell himself it’s _probably_ not about them. They were already snuggling, he can’t imagine a head kiss could have set them off.

He’s not Gralea anymore.

Prompto rests his head against Gladio’s chest again and thumbs open his front camera, angling the phone so it’s just his face leaning against a chest that is obviously Gladio even though none of his face is visible and drops a picture into his chat with Eli.

[Prompto 20:39] [Image 21799.jpg]

[Prompto 20:40] nope. not a thing.

[Eli 20:41] Well I’m happy for you even if you are a little brat.

[Prompto 20:42] (人´∀｀)．☆．。．:*･°

[Eli 20:43] What does that even mean?

[Eli 20:43] Don’t actually tell me. My life will be no better for knowing.

[Prompto 20:44] have fun on your trip! say hi to fi for me

Prompto slips his phone back into his pocket and the server approaches the counter with a bag of food, calling their number.

-

Prompto sits cross legged on the ground in front of Gladio’s coffee table, bowl resting on the wood surface on top of a clean tea-towel he’d insisted on putting down even though Gladio said it didn’t matter.

Prompto’s _messy_.

Squirming a little with impatience Prompto listens to the sound of Gladio’s chopsticks hitting his bowl for as long as he can manage, taking just a few mouthfuls of his own dinner before looking over his shoulder at him and saying, “So what was bothering you earlier?”

Gladio swallows and that unease he’d carried over their coffee at _Insomnia Ink_ returns.

“What are you doing on Solstice?” he asks carefully.

Oh.

Huh.

Noct was right.

“I’m going down town to take pictures while it’s deserted because, man, the pictures will be _amazing_ ,” Prompto explains with as much enthusiasm as he can muster in the face of Gladio’s concern, “And then my boss is paying me time and a half to work a late-late shift.”

“Wait, seriously?” Gladio’s blurts and Prompto’s expecting some kind of push back like Noct’s not the confused exclamation of - “Who buys sushi on Solstice?”

“That’s what I said,” Prompto says, remembering quizzing his boss on just that when he’d first been asked, “But apparently he gets a crazy rush from like nine to midnight. I think its drunk people.”

“Huh.”

“Also me, I guess,” Prompto muses remembering the other half of his boss’ deal. He’d been very enthusiastic about getting someone in to cover the front for him, “Because he said he’ll also make me whatever I want for dinner.”

There’s a particular spicy roll he likes and, thanks to Iggy, he’s also developed a taste for the mango ones. His boss usually hates making them because sometimes they get a million orders for them and other days absolutely _no one_ wants them.

“Are you - Prom, are you okay with all that?” Gladio manages to ask, falling over his words adorably.

“Why?” Prompto asks, a little confused. And then - “Oh - because it’s Solstice?”

Gladio nods tentatively.

Prompto shrugs, really genuinely not bothered, “It’s still a better day than I would have had in Gralea. Plus, I _really_ do want good shots of the architecture without people in the way.”

Prompto really, really, _really_ does want to do that. Pictures of those deserted streets in the day time must be rare as shit.

Gladio’s mouth works a little and Prompto can already feel the Noct like reaction in the works. Though Gladio will perhaps be less _demanding_ in his care.

“I know its odd for you and I’ve already kind of had a fight with Noct about this -”

“What? When?” Gladio interrupts.

“The other day when he found out. He wanted to like, bail on the Citadel stuff and come hole up in my apartment or just sneak me in and damn the consequences but I really, really don’t mind,” Prompto enthuses. He knows he has a very different life to his friends, that their standards for being content are markedly different to one another and Prompto worries that none of them will believe what he’s saying due to their own feelings.

It’s understandable even if it is a tiny bit frustrating.

“Please don’t be sad for me, really,” Prompto half begs, “Earning money and taking cool shots that no one ever gets to take is an amazing day for me.”

Gladio kind of sighs and admits, “I wish I could be with you.”

Prompto’s heart swells up and then promptly melts.

“That’s sweet,” Prompto tells him earnestly, “But meeting your Dad on Solstice morning when we’ve only been together like a week seems the opposite of chill to me.”

Gladio laughs and shakes his head a little, “Iris would probably be the least chill thing there if we did that, but I get you.”

Prompto pushes himself up to sit on the couch next to Gladio and lean into his side, earning himself a sweet little head kiss.

“I really, really won’t be sad or anything, I promise,” Prompto, well, promises.

“Can I call you before you work though?” Gladio asks like he thinks Prompto might actually say _no_ , “Maybe get Noct in on the action too.”

“Yeah,” Prompto says quickly, “Also Iggy promised to pack me up a container of leftovers from your fancy ass feast so you can help pick out all my favourite bits.”

“How many types of stuffing do you want?” Gladio asks grinning.

“How many are there?” Prompto asks. He could maybe name three types of stuffing if he thought really hard about it.

Carefully he grabs his noodles, scooping them up tea towel and all to rest against his knees.

“Six last year but Iggy’s been experimenting in the kitchen so who knows.”

Prompto’s mouth drops open in shock.

Six.

 _Six_.

Prompto had no idea Ignis had such strong feelings towards the side dish.

Gladio has to clear his throat of some broth that seemingly went down the wrong way but when he has he reaches out with one hand to gently push Prompto’s chin up so his mouth closes.

“ _Six_?”

Gladio nods.

\- - -

Noct knocks on his door just before four on Solstice eve-eve wearing jeans as promised but looking a little like the rips on his knees aren’t the only part of him fraying at the edges.

“You wanna stay in instead?” Prompto offers after one look at his face.

Noct shakes his head, “Somewhere with a crowd to blend in to is just what I need.”

Prompto knows that the easiest place for Noct to hide is obviously somewhere with no one to even look at him in the first place but is starting to realise that the true satisfaction for Noct lies in being around human beings and none of them paying attention to him.

Anonymity. Not seclusion.

Normality, Ignis would say. Noct just wants to be normal.

“Lets go then!” Prompto says excitedly and Noct manages a grin, heading back to the car while Prompto locks up. Noct’s settled himself behind Ignis so Prompto climbs into the front passenger seat so Ignis doesn’t feel like a chauffeur.

Ignis looks a little tired too.

“Hey, Iggy,” Prompto says, “You coming with us?”

Ignis shakes his head, “Thought it would be best if you two had some time to yourselves.”

“Ooo evening off,” Prompto teases, “Nice.”

Noct scoffs, “He’s going back to the Citadel.”

“ _Why_?”

Ignis chuckles, “I’d like to do some of the tricker work on some of my desserts without _distractions_ ,” Ignis says pointedly.

Noct poorly stifles a grin.

“Are you making them for the dinner or -?”

“Some things I’ve made are for the sit down meal but I’m also making smaller desserts for the evening too,” Ignis explains, smoothly driving them out of Prompto’s neighbourhood.

“I feel like this is outside the remit of what an adviser does,” Prompto muses. He doesn’t really mean anything by it, just thinking allowed and he worries as soon as he’s said it like Ignis might think Prompto’s criticising him.

Instead Ignis laughs.

“This I do because I _like_ it,” Ignis says.

Ignis must know some super secret, mega shortcut because they get to the arcade in no time at all.

“You need us to text when we’re done?” Prompto asks, “Or has Noct got a curfew?”

Ignis smile seems strangely smug, “Oh you’ll get home just fine.”

Prompto frowns a little but Noct’s eager to be on with it so he drags Prompto off towards the exit, forcing Prompto to wave his goodbyes to Ignis.

Nyx has chaperoned about ninety percent of his and Noct’s arcade friend-dates, leaning casually by the entrance and looking more like a male model than any overworked soldier has any right to and causing a massive distraction to any male attracted person that walks past.

Prompto’s heart belongs solely to Gladio, of course, but he’s got _eyes_.

Noct says Nyx always offers for chaperone duty - it’s technically outside his remit of duties because he’s a _Glaive_ \- because he just gets to go straight home with Ignis afterwards.

Back in the day - when Noct would go to the arcade by himself or drag Ignis inside with him - Noct says he had to endure an endless stream of Nyx attempting to flirt with Ignis and him resolutely denying he was enjoying it the whole ride home. Prompto wishes he’d been around for that.

Instead, today's male model of choice is -

“Gladio,” Prompto almost yells, happily skipping ahead of Noct to meet Gladio for a warm kiss. He pulls back quickly, remembering that Gladio’s leaning up against the wall in prime _working_ position and not wanting to get him in trouble if that is at all possible. Gladio just grins and stoops to kiss him again.

“Oh hey,” Noct says, “You got away.”

“Dad’s in a good mood,” Gladio explains, “Let everyone out early. Nyx is on making sure Ignis eats as well as cooks duty.”

Noct laughs and eyes Gladio a little suspiciously when he moves to settle back against the wall.

“You not coming inside?”

Gladio shakes his head, “You guys go have fun.”

Prompto feels Noct glance at him.

“You sure?” Noct asks.

“I’m gonna take him home later - if he wants,” Gladio says, “So you can play with him for now and I’ll have my turn later.”

Prompto laughs but Noct groans and moves to shove Gladio as he walks past him. Prompto darts forwards to kiss Gladio one last time and whisper in his ear, “I want.”

Gladio throws a wink at him as he follows after Noct.

-

They set a new score on the _Dead 4 Dayz_ coop mode and Noct keys in their combo name - NAP for Noctis _and_ Prompto - before stepping back to allow the two younger teens behind them a turn.

“Are you hungry?” Noct asks and Prompto admits that he’s starving, expecting Noct to lead him over to food area but instead he just pulls out his phone and starts texting, walking over, instead, to a strategy game that Prompto loves but Noct hates, depositing a token and indicating Prompto should play.

It goes _pretty_ well but Prompto makes the kind of mistake early on that’s hard to recover from and he’s kind of distracted by all the noise - there’s a particularly rowdy group of teen girls monopolising the dancing games - so he’s more than ready to call it quits when he dies.

Noct glances at his phone and says, “Come on.”

They head to the restaurant now, bypassing the counters and sitting themselves down at a booth for four in the corner.

Noct looks oddly smug and Prompto squints at him.

“You’re up to something,” he muses.

Noct laughs and a nods, “Yep.”

What Noct’s up to becomes quickly apparent when Gladio appears at their table with one of those plastic order numbers and a receipt, which he tucks under the number when he sets it down on the table.

“You’re a brat,” Gladio tells Noct, sliding into the booth next to Prompto. He slips his hand onto Prompto’s thigh under the table.

Noct grins but focuses in on Prompto when he brightly says, “Thanks!”

“What?” Prompto asks, laughing just a little nervously.

“Gladio never would have gotten the food if you weren’t here,” Noct says, “So thanks.”

Prompto rolls his eyes and turns to Gladio. More sincerely than Noct he says, “Thank you.”

“What pizza did you order?” Noct asks, interrupting them before they could stare at each other for too long. Probably a good call to be fair.

“That horrendous meat feast thing with hot dog slices on it that you love so much,” Gladio says, “But I ordered fries and wings and stuff too. So people don’t have to eat cheese if they don’t want.”

Prompto knows that’s aimed at him and he whines, “I _like_ cheese.”

A waitress appears suddenly then, deposits two dark coloured sodas and one clear before disappearing with barely a word to clear a table a few down from them strewn with half empty cups and crumpled napkins. Gladio slides the clear cup towards Prompto and he takes a large sip gratefully.

Prompto loves the arcade but there’s something about the noise and the heat that exhausts him and makes him feel just a _little_ on edge. Plus, he can shower right before he heads out and he’ll get home feeling like its been a fortnight since he last washed.

Gladio squeezes his leg.

“I got spicy daggerquill tenders for you,” Gladio offers and Prompto perks up despite himself.

He guesses that’s okay.

Also, when Noct’s beloved pizza does arrive it looks kind of gross. Prompto’s eaten a lot of shitty food in his life but that monstrosity does not seem to be worth the stomach ache the cheese would give him.

Instead he tries buffalo wings and stacked nachos eating almost all the tenders Gladio ordered - Noct thinks they’re too spicy and Gladio clearly just wants _Prompto_ to enjoy them - alongside more fried potatoes that Prompto knew he was capable of consuming.

Gladio kisses his head before sliding out of the booth.

“Just come outside when you guys are done,” Gladio tells Noct.

“You sure you’re okay out there?” Noct asks, looking a little guilty now. Prompto suspects he never _actually_ expected Gladio to give in and organise their dinner for them. Prompto’s glad he at least stayed to eat with them.

Gladio rolls his eyes.

“Aren’t you bored?” Prompto asks.

“I’ve got a book with me,” Gladio says, “Plus you guys stay late enough and I might get to see all the suits stumbling out of their office Solstice parties. Endlessly entertaining.”

“Well,” Noct says and he cracks his knuckles, “Guess we’ve got some gaming to get to then.”

-

Somehow its almost eleven when they finally call it quits. NAP now holds the three top spots on _Dead 4 Dayz_ and Noct takes a picture of it proudly, dropping it, no doubt, into a message sent directly to Iggy.

Prompto’s tired, more than ready to go home at this point, his alertness drooping every time Noct yawns.

Which is often.

Gladio straightens as soon as they appear outside, tucking the small paperback in his hand into his back pocket.

“You guys done?”

Noct nods, “I’ll let Iggy know we’re on the way back.” He pulls out his phone again as they walk over to Gladio’s car. Prompto actually feels pretty dumb for not noticing it when they’d arrived earlier.

“I’ve gotta drop you in public parking and some Guard will be there to walk you up,” Gladio tells him, “We can’t go through the Crown entrance with Prompto in the car.”

Noct frowns, “So dumb.”

“I know,” Gladio agrees.

“Like, he’s allowed in a car with me, but not if that car goes through a specific gate into the Citadel.”

“I can wait somewhere else,” Prompto says hurriedly, “Or like get the bus -”

Gladio pointedly opens the passenger door for him and gestures for Prompto to get in.

Prompto gets in.

He glances at Noct in the back seat as he’s clicking in his seat belt.

“How come you never sit up front?” Prompto asks, realising for the first time that he’s _never_ seen Noct in the front of a car.

His friend _blushes,_ just a faint pink across his cheekbones.

Gladio laughs but cuts it off quickly when Noct scowls at him.

“The seat behind the driver is the safest,” Gladio explains as seriously as he can, “So it’s protocol he sits there.”

“Wait, for real?” Prompto asks.

“Ignis looked up the statistics of accident fatalities,” Noct complains, “Because he’s a nerd and now it’s an actual security protocol me and Dad sit behind our drivers.”

“Wow,” Prompto breathes.

Sure, Prompto’s poor and stuff, but at least he can choose where he sits in the car.

-

[Noct 23:13] see you in a few days

[Noct 23:14] and i promise to give you the special mega grand tour of the citadel once youre allowed in to see all the cool bits okay? you can take all the pictures you want

[Noct 23:14] what’s the point in visiting if you cant go spy in gladio training?

“That Noct?” Gladio asks, noticing the incessant buzzing.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “Think he feels bad about the Citadel and stuff.”

It had been fine, really. It was the closest Prompto’s ever gotten to the magnificent building and the only awkwardness had come when Gladio had to give Prompto’s name to the gate guard on the way in and out.

Both Gladio and Noct had seemed to take issue with the guys attitude but Prompto hadn't found anything particularly bothersome about him.

“I dunno what the hold up on getting you clearance is,” Gladio murmurs.

Prompto thinks _he_ might know what the hold up is.

“I’ll look into it for you,” Gladio says kindly just as he pulls up outside Prompto’s apartment.

“Don’t worry about it,” Prompto says quickly, not wanting Gladio to go digging. Astrals know what he'd find.

Gladio frowns a little and Prompto rushes to reassure him, “You’re busy. It’s not a big deal. The Citadel isn’t going anywhere.”

Gladio hums thoughtfully and leans across to kiss Prompto softly.

When Gladio pulls away Prompto buries a yawn behind his hand. Gladio smiles.

“You still want me to come inside?”

Prompto blushes at the little _double entendre_ and Gladio laughs.

“I didn’t mean that,” he promises.

Prompto smiles, “I didn’t even realise we’d come back here. You wanna squish up in my little bed?”

“I really do,” Gladio says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompto is the one person Iggy will use emojis and such with, fight me (except not actually because I’m weak).  
> It’s almost a shame Noct isn’t gay in this one because there’s a wealth of jokes to be had about how long he spent in his closet in this chapter.


	9. Trust and Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto enjoys his version of Solstice but he's not used to spending so much time alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update mildly delayed because Horizon Zero Dawn dropped for the PC when I was like ninety percent done with this and my self control went on a short vacation. She back now.  
> I mentioned in the last chapter that this was going to end up longer than Saturation but I just spied the word counts and oops. It already is. Somebody stop me.  
> Who forgot Prompto video chats with the King during the Solstice party? I did. Who found writing that interaction incredibly difficult for some reason? This bitch.  
> Content warning: Mention of kids in a hospital setting - no intense description involved or anything but some implication that these children are very sick/terminal. It maybe didn’t need a warning but it came out of no where while I was writing and didn’t want it to surprise anyone else either.

Prompto wakes up Solstice Eve flat on his belly with a warm weight draped over one of his thighs and the feeling of Gladio’s fingers trailing up and down his spine under his t-shirt. Prompto must do something that indicates he’s awake because Gladio starts to touch him a little more firmly - the flat of his palm soothing the small of his back - and drops a kiss on his shoulder.

They hadn’t actually done anything last night. Prompto had, admittedly, been more than a little sleepy so he’d simply rinsed off the smell of the arcade in his shower and then crawled into Gladio’s arms where he was reclining in Prompto’s bed, Gladio having dragged the coffee table and TV around to face the bed.

It was _super_ nice and Prompto had dropped off to sleep no more than half way through a movie that he now remembers nothing about.

Prompto wiggles over onto his side, facing Gladio and murmurs, “Morning.”

Part of him is worried about morning breath but it's Gladio that leans in to kiss him and Prompto returns it eagerly, opening his mouth for Gladio’s tongue.

Generally speaking Prompto wakes up half hard - or more sometimes - and today is no different so he feels his way across and then down Gladio’s firm abdomen, wondering how long it’d take him to get Gladio hard too.

No time at all, as it turns out, because Prompto finds Gladio rock solid in his underwear. Prompto smirks as he teases his fingers over the impressive length and Gladio lets out a low hiss, reaching to squeeze one of Prompto’s ass cheeks.

“You should have woken me up,” Prompto says pointedly rubbing his thumb into the sensitive patch under Gladio's tip.

Gladio smiles all soft but his voice is a little rough, “You looked too pretty to disturb.”

Prompto flushes scarlet and deftly manoeuvres his hand under Gladio’s waistband to encircle Gladio’s dick in a tight fist. It’s a little dry but Prompto works him slowly and from the huffed breath Gladio lets out Prompto assumes it feels at least _some what_ good.

“You gotta rush off?” Prompto asks.

He's vaguely aware that Gladio has family Solstice stuff starting today but he doesn’t know exactly what that means, like if that’s just an Amicitia thing or a fancy Lucian family thing. Noct and Iggy have stuff on too, but that _could_ just be the Citadel.

“As long as I'm at the Citadel before midday I'll survive,” Gladio says, “So I’ve got some time.”

Prompto grins and drops his hold on Gladio, moving instead to push the boxers all the way down. Gladio chuckles and, when Prompto urges, rolls carefully on top of him.

-

Prompto attempts to work on one of the sketchbooks that’s sort of part of his portfolio but ends up tossing it to one side to work on the one containing his weirdly complete graphic novelisation of _Sweetest Grace_.

It’s Gladio’s fault.

Absolutely, completely the big guy's fault.

He’d seemed to randomly remembered it existed this morning during his shower and then pleaded at Prompto with big sad eyes while the blond attempted to fry eggs for toast until he’d capitulated and let Gladio look through it in person.

It _is_ much better in real life than phone pictures, Prompto can admit.

Gladio had gushed over it, a stream of constant praise and compliments that had made Prompto's skin burn hot and his stomach flutter happily.

But the book had been out then, just sat in plain view next to the coffee cup Gladio had used and almost screaming at Prompto for attention. Even if only he and Gladio can enjoy it it’s still worth working on, right?

Admittedly Prompto’s being pretty lazy. He’s got work later, but not until six and he’s not even bothered to shower yet. He’d delayed Gladio getting up this morning - in one sense of the word - so Prompto had sent his boyfriend off for a shower while he’d started on breakfast and made coffee.

Prompto considers the trade off between being a little uncomfortable between his thighs and the scent of Gladio lingering on him to be completely worth it.

Honestly, he’s being so lazy he doesn’t realise it’s time he should be getting something to eat when he gets a text from Iggy and sees the time stamp.

[Iggy 13:38] The composition is not as good as what you could create but I thought it a sweet image you would enjoy nonetheless.

[Iggy 13:39] [Image 00762.jpg]

Prompto just about expires of adorableness.

There’s _a lot_ happening in this picture. A lot.

Dead centre is Noct, sat on a chair surrounded by kids, all of them probably ten or under, with a particularly young one on his lap. He’s small and a little frail looking with a big thick hat pulled down over his ears. Noct’s got one armed hooked around the little boy, keeping him secure and the other is reaching into a bag of wrapped solstice presents - shiny silver paper with black ribbons.

Gladio’s sat right on the floor next to Noct with little ones of his own perched on his lap, one on each leg. One of them is a little girl with a mass of bright orange curls, her smile pushing so wide it’s nudging the tube of her cannula higher up her cheeks.

Prompto had worn a cannula for a while during one of his longer hospital stints. He was probably older than this little cutie though and his heart goes out to her – Prompto always had a real mild reaction to the adhesive tape and it itched like crazy. He hopes she’s not _too_ sick but if she’s there now - if she’s earned a visit from the Crown Prince and retinue -

A girl Prompto recognises as Iris from a picture in Gladio's apartment is crouched by Gladio’s side holding up a picture book for the kids to see and Prompto thinks Gladio might be reading aloud from it.

Prompto doesn’t think he can look at the image for too long without crying.

Behind the three of them are two people that Prompto recognises from the news, King Regis - with his hand resting on Noct’s shoulder - and his Shield, Clarus Amicitia.

Who is Gladio’s dad, Prompto realises with a start.

Somehow that information had never actually registered before.

They look somewhat alike, Prompto muses, obviously related by their stature and the set of their jaw, but Gladio must get the bronzed quality of his skin from his mother because Iris and Clarus are almost as pale as Prompto their hair a few shades lighter that Gladio’s.

Prompto wonders why no one told him _this_ is what they all do on Solstice Eve. Prompto would have only been supportive, _maybe_ just a little jealous, but certainly wouldn't have judged.

Okay he _might_ have teased Noct. Unable to compute the idea of him willingly playing with children, having one on his lap with a smile and not a grimace.

Noct’s about a thousand times sweeter than he lets people believe.

[Prompto 13:44] this is too cute. i’m dead.

[Prompto 13:45] how long have you guys been doing this?

[Iggy 13:46] Noct has always undertaken a charitable endeavour for Solstice, mobility allowing, but this is the first time we have done something of this nature.

[Iggy 13:47] He seems to be much more engaged in this than when we ladle soup - I suspect it’s the lack of vegetables.

[Prompto 13:48] that’s so nice! i’m sure the kids really appreciate it.

Maybe, Prompto thinks, he’ll get to go next year. Just to help out. He wants to ask, but he also doesn’t want a negative answer so he doesn’t.

\- - -

Prompto almost forgets it’s Solstice when he gets up in the morning. He’s up as early as ever and he simply pulls on his sneakers, his leggings and his long sleeved running top and heads out for a run - energetic but not _too_ exuberant music pulsing in his ears.

By the time he’s back and out of his shower he has a message waiting for him.

[Gladio 09:07] Good morning baby. Happy Solstice <3

[Prompto 09:18] happy solstice handsome!（*＾3＾）

[Prompto 09:19] [Image 16379.jpg]

It’s just a selfie of him, taken just then, bright smile genuine and wide, face a little flushed from the heat of his shower. Prompto’s not sure _why_ he sends it exactly, just that he thinks Gladio will enjoy seeing his smiling face this morning.

[Gladio 09:21] I’ve told you how beautiful you are right?

[Prompto 09:22] mayyyybe

And Prompto sends another picture, this time he’s blowing a kiss.

-

[Noct 10:18] happy solstice bud!

[Noct 10:19] [Image 07986.jpg]

[Prompto 10:21] dude. that is a tonne of pancakes.

[Prompto 10:22] happy solstice!

[Noct 10:22] iggy is supposed to have today mostly off but there’s something VERY specs about the arrangement of my chocolate chips

[Prompto 10:23] concentric circles?

[Noct 10:24] neat spiral

-

Deserted Insomnia is _something_ else.

Stark and beautiful but somehow still warm and welcoming despite the grand architecture that screams austerity and wealth.

It’s not entirely empty, of course, there are a few people out and about, with nowhere to go and no one to celebrate with like Prompto or perhaps on their way to wherever they’re going.

Plenty of dog walkers too, bundled up in gloves and coats. Prompto takes plenty of surreptitious pictures of them, faces fuzzy or turned away - because he’s not a creep - and plenty of staged too, dogs bounding through piles of slightly damp leaves.

A young couple even stops Prompto to ask him to take their picture with their phone - it’s their first holiday together since they got married - and Prompto does so gladly.

He kind of skirts the Citadel though, oddly uncomfortable with going so close when all his companions are inside it. Without him.

It would be a perfect opportunity to get a good shot without tourists bumbling across his viewfinder or stopping to ask him directions - like his blond hair isn’t a dead giveaway that he doesn’t really _know_. Though maybe its not such a giveaway when you don't live here yourself.

The tower ends up in a lot of his shots though, the tallest building on the Insomnia skyline, poking up behind other impressive buildings. Prompto has a list of buildings he wants though and he’d spent a little time yesterday writing up a list and trying to plot a logical journey around the city. He trudges down to the harbour before working his way across the city, taking a few more shots of the theatre and fishing boats as they bob, seemingly abandoned in the not quite still water.

Insomnia doesn’t have any parliament building because everything happens inside the Citadel but it does have buildings that aren’t _really_ churches – or so Ignis says - but stand as dedications to each of the six Astrals. Prompto goes to each of them for pictures and comes away pleased with his work. These are the busiest buildings he sees all day and Shiva is by far the most popular of them all.

Figures.

Prompto’s glad the rain holds off even if the clouds stay heavy; the bright winter sun filters through for beautiful soft lighting.

There’s still a few hours before his shift starts but he’s getting hungry and doesn’t want to be out and about if Gladio remembers to call so he takes himself home through one of his favourite parks and stops to take pictures of the Mystic Statue dead centre there.

Prompto got better already, grabbed on a pre-dawn run not long after he’d arrived in Insomnia - pre-dating his and Noct’s friendship by a week - but they’re not bad enough to be deleted immediately.

Prompto had bundled up for his excursion but he’d maybe over done it on the layers, sweat beading aling the edge of his hat and his neck just a _little_ clammy under his scarf that he rinses off under his shower again before making himself something small to eat.

Prompto's _absolutely_ cashing in on the offer of free sushi. He already has an order in mind.

Prompto’s fresh, clean and full of instant ramen - don’t tell Iggy - when his phone chimes jauntily to let him know he has an incoming video call.

Prompto scrambles for it, laughing as he swipes to connect the call.

“Noct!” he says brightly.

“’ _Sup dude,_ ” Noct greets lazily.

“Happy Solstice,” Prompto says happily.

“ _For you maybe_ ,” Noct half mutters but he’s smiling so Prompto knows he doesn’t really mean it, “ _How_ have _you been_?”

Noct asks it like he’s expecting Prompto to break down crying and tell him how _miserable_ he’s been all day.

He's maybe been a little lonely but that's a feeling Prompto is a _professional_ at burying down so deep he can barely feel it. Though he's a little out of practice _now_.

Prompto rolls his eyes and says, “Amazing. Saw _at least_ twelve dogs and I got pictures I wasn’t even planning on.”

“ _Okay but did you_ pet _any of the dogs_?” Noct asks seriously.

Prompto nods, “One licked me right across the face.”

“ _Gross_ ,” Noct says but he sounds just a little awed and a lot jealous.

Noct shifts around a little and Prompto gets a view of the room, somehow both tasteful and extravagant in decorations. Prompto imagines all the foliage he can see is _real_ and assumes the room smells as festive as it looks. The green is festooned in black and gold decorations, in keeping with the Crown colours and still managing to look warm and festive.

Prompto really should have picked up some decorations from a charity shop or something, it’s the one pang of regret he has.

“How was the dinner?” Prompto asks.

“ _Food was amazing of course. Though way too much or it for everyone here_ ,” Noct says with a tinge of irritation, “ _Iggy’s getting them to pack you a tonne of food. There’s these chocolate peanut butter tart things you’ll_ love _dude_.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Prompto says earnestly, those do sound pretty great, “You doing okay?” Prompto checks, knowing that Noct would much rather spend the day with just his Dad - and maybe Iggy and Gladio and _Prompto_ \- than all the other people he can hear chattering in the background.

“ _It’s not so bad_ ,” Noct answers, “ _Hey, you wanna meet my dad_?”

Prompto makes an embarrassing noise born of nerves but Noct just laughs at him, turning to - presumably - look for his Dad. The _King_. Prompto is not prepared. Nervously he tries to flatten his hair a little as whatever Noct sees makes his grin pull wide.

Prompto knows Noct mischief when he sees it.

“ _Let me talk to him_ ,” comes Gladio’s voice a little muffled but unmistakable him.

“Hey Big Guy!” Prompto says loudly.

“ _Call him yourself_ ,” Noctis tells Gladio.

Prompto can’t _not_ laugh at that.

“ _I can’t right now, can I_?” Gladio complains. Noct suddenly moves to the side like he’s dodging out of the way of a grasping hand.

“ _Just give him here a sec_ ,” Gladio demands.

“ _Nuh uh_ ,” Noct says and he’s not _actually_ poking out his tongue but honestly he might as well be, “ _We gotta go talk to my Dad real quick_.”

“ _Noct_!” Prompto cries and he can hear Gladio echo him. As Noct starts walking across the room the sound of Ignis laughing fades in and out.

Noct clears his throat and a second later he’s pointing at the phone with an eyebrow half raised, his expression hopeful.

“ _Excuse me for a moment_ ,” Prompto hears _King_ Regis say to whoever he was talking to before Noct interrupted and Noct turns back to the phone to send Prompto a grin and a furtive thumbs up.

Prompto swallows nervously.

“ _Dad_ ,” Noct says, “ _Uh this is Prompto, here_.” Noct turns and after some adjusting both Noct and his father are in frame, the King stooping just a little to put his head close to his son’s and offering up a soft wave.

They look somewhat alike, Prompto thinks, similarities around their jaws but there must be a lot of Noct’s mother in his face - his eyes and his nose.

“ _Ah, Prompto_ ,” the King says, voice warm, “ _It’s so good to finally meet you - well, in some capacity at least. Noct has told me all about you._ ”

“Your Majesty,” Prompto says nervously, “You as well - I mean. It’s an honour to meet - to speak with you. Sir.”

Noct rolls his eyes. The King laughs.

“ _No need for formalities_ ,” King Regis says, “ _Or these nerves. I assure you I have a high opinion of you already. In these circumstance I am nothing but the father of your friend_.”

Prompto blushes bright red and stutters out a thank you. Noct chuckles.

Prompto doesn’t point out that he’s never actually been introduced to a friend’s parent before.

There’s a beat of silence that lasts just long enough for Prompto to feel awkward enough to blurt, “Have you had a nice Solstice?”

The King looks faintly surprised and responds, “ _A very pleasant day, thank you. Noct got me a wonderful t-shirt and some slippers that I sincerely wish I could wear outside my chambers._ ”

Prompto’s _seen_ that t-shirt and he laughs imagining the King giving a royal address or holding court with a cartoon chocobo and cactuar fighting on his chest. Prompto honestly thinks it’d probably go down pretty well with the general populace.

Prompto can’t help but laugh at the image and it makes Regis smile broad, the resemblance between him and Noct sharpening.

“ _And you_?” The King asks, “ _Have you had a pleasant day? Noctis told me you were exploring our fine city. How have you been finding it?_ ”

“It’s amazing,” Prompto enthuses immediately, almost forgetting who he’s talking to, “So beautiful. It’s just a shame I have to work and can’t get decent pictures of the lights tonight.” The sun had _just_ started to go down when Prompto headed back to his apartment but not enough to give the lights any meaningful impact.

Regis’ face is all indulgence. “ _There’s always next year_.”

Prompto grins brightly. He genuinely hadn’t thought of that.

“ _Next year Prompto will be_ here,” Noct says pointedly, giving his dad a _look_.

“ _I didn’t realise that an invitation here meant he would be kept hostage in this very room_ ,” Regis says, “ _My what a scandal if the papers find out how we treat our guests_.”

Prompto giggles at the look father and son exchange - bemused and fond - and Noct trying desperately to appear as though this whole thing is unbearably tiresome to him. Off to one side someone clears their throat.

“ _Sorry, Reggie_ ,” comes a deep voice, “ _Councillor Tameo seems to have come over a little ill and wants to talk with you before he heads home_.”

“ _Alright, Clarus_ ,” King Regis says - Prompto’s eyes widen because that’s Gladio’s _dad_ right there - glancing quickly away before back at Prompto, “ _Duty calls I’m afraid, Prompto, but it was lovely to speak with you at last_.”

“Oh, you as well, Y -your Majesty,” Prompto says.

Regis smiles at him, shaking his head just a little and -

“ _Prompto? Are you speaking with Prompto?_ ”

Prompto’s screen is suddenly dark, like Noct’s jammed him against his chest. The voices are oddly muffled.

“ _Nuh uh, no way_ ,” Noct says, “ _Gladio will_ actually _kill me_.”

There are peals of laughter on the other side of the phone and Prompto laughs a little too, leftover nerves making it come out shaky.

“ _Alright, alright_ ,” the deep voice says again, “ _Better run away before Tameo expects you to come see him off too._ ”

Prompto’s in the dark for maybe another half minute and then Noct’s face is coming back into view.

“ _See_?” he says, “ _Not so bad, right? He’s just a normal dude like me_.”

“A little warning,” Prompto wheezes, “Geez. And then I thought - Gladio’s dad…”

Noct shakes his head, “ _Gladio’s already going to be pissed at me for keeping you to myself like this, absolutely not risking being the one to introduce you to Clarus_.”

Prompto's laugh is more a breathless wheeze.

“ _But like, you heard how excited he was right? So if you’re um - worried about that stuff. Clarus not being supportive or whatever he totally is. So don’t. Worry that is_.”

Prompto feels a surge of affection for his friend that is somehow only increased when he looks to one side and offers someone off screen what Noct must think is a bland smile but looks more like a grimace to Prompto.

“No - j _ust talking to my friend_ ,” Noct says in answer to a look or words Prompto can’t hear.

Noct rolls his eyes a little when he glances back, “ _'Have you got a girlfriend_? _'_ ” he murmurs in a high tone, “ _Like I could get one and openly video call her at the Citadel Solstice celebration_.”

The idea of Noct with a girlfriend is bizarre - not because of Noct exactly but because he has expressed zero interest in any human that way apart from Luna. Prompto had tentatively asked him about this once and Noct had simply said that he just wasn’t bothered by all that stuff generally - but at least with Luna he could see the possibility that he _would_ be bothered by it and that was enough for him.

Noct does a weird grimace and then starts moving again.

“ _You probably have work soon, right_?”

Prompto nods.

Noct looks around a little then says, “ _Okay you can talk to your boyfriend now even though…_ ”

Noct trails off and Prompto playfully glares at him, intoning dryly, “He’s not as cool as you are.”

Prompto’s a good friend. He knows what’s expected of him.

Noct’s laugh fades away as Prompto’s screen blurs, images flying past rapidly. There’s a muffled thud , a little rustling and then he’s finally, blessedly looking at Gladio’s gorgeous face.

“Happy Solstice!” Prompto greets happily.

“ _Hey, baby. You have a good day?_ ” Gladio asks before taking a sip of the dark liquid in his tumbler.

“Heck yeah. The city was deserted,” Prompto says, “So cool. Kinda spooky actually _._ ”

“ _I’ll be interested in seeing your pictures_ ,” Iggy’s voice says and then the phone is adjusted slightly so Prompto can see Ignis. Prompto waves at him and Ignis smiles back looking just about as relaxed as he ever does with his own glass in hand. His drink is clear though, with a sprig of something green in it.

Gin, Prompto guess, though he just likes his alcohol coloured and sparkly.

“I might get some printed once I’ve done a bit of editing,” Prompto explains knowing he definitely _will_ so some of the images are good enough for his portfolio, “So I’ll be sure to show you them when they’re ready _._ ”

“ _I look forward to seeing them once they’re up to your exacting standards then,_ ” Ignis corrects with a fond little smile, “ _I’ll leave you to it. I hope work isn’t too strenuous for you later_.”

Ignis offers his own little wave then and Prompto hears him say Noct’s name as he steps away, moving until Prompto can no longer hear them. Prompto looks over his boyfriend, notes the dark grey sweater he seems to be wearing and then smiles.

“How’s _your_ day been?” he asks.

Gladio’s eyes flit across the screen like he’s drinking Prompto in before he says, “R _eally good. Though I ate too many waffles this morning, I wasn’t even hungry when dinner rolled around_.”

Prompto’s never actually seen Gladio be in a position where he’s _unable_ to eat. Kind of an unbelievable prospect based on the sheer mass of him.

“How many types of stuffing were there?” Prompto asks, making Gladio laugh.

“ _Six again_ ,” Gladio says, “ _But two of them were new thanks to Iggy, I’m sure you’ll get to try it._ ”

Prompto raises his eyebrows, “Was he serious about the food?”

Noct had said Ignis was and Ignis had even mentioned a few days ago that he’d save him a dinner but he never actually expected -

“ _Iggy’s serious about everything_ ,” Gladio says.

A banner drops down over the top of his phone screen, his alarm chiming silently to let him know he needs to head to work soon. Prompto reaches to swipe it away.

“ _You gotta head off to work?_ ” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods pouting, “Pretty soon. Gotta walk down because the buses aren’t working.”

Prompto’s treating himself to a taxi home because its a _holiday_ but he can’t really justify the cost both ways. Sure it’s already dark but Prompto’s going to skirt some of his less wholesome shortcuts and put his speed to good use if he thinks he’s in any trouble. Not that anything has ever happened to him in Insomnia of course.

“ _What time are you finished?_ ” Gladio asks, eyebrows cinching together in a frown.

Prompto can quite literally _see_ an idea forming in Gladio’s head so he rushes to explain and reassure.

“Boss says as soon as we die off, about midnight he thinks,” Prompto says, “I already pre-booked a taxi though, before you suggest something incredibly sweet but also dumb.”

The company has an _app_ which is nice because Prompto likes making phone calls like he likes a decent kick in the teeth.

Gladio laughs, looking suitably chastened, “ _I just worry about you, Freckles_.”

Prompto feels his face flush and shyly admits, “I am supremely not used to that.”

“ _You’ll get there over time_ ,” Gladio promises, “ _I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?_ ”

“You better!” Prompto enthuses blowing him a kiss.

Gladio winks before he ends the call.

-

It’s been _pretty_ slow all told.

Largely it’s been youngish people, clearly stopping in on their way home from family gatherings slightly tipsy and ordering, mostly, by jabbing their fingers at items on the menu spread across the counter.

They get a steady rush around ten that takes them up to just past eleven and then it peters out to a slow but steady stream.

Linc pokes his head out of the kitchen - none of the chefs would work today so he’s actually having to do stuff but to his credit he has packed up Prompto a box of sushi that might see him through a couple meals.

“How are we doing?”

Prompto’s refilling the dispenser of soy packets so he turns and says, “Okay I think. Slow right now -”

But of course someone walks in right at that moment - stumbles more like - leaving a group of chattering people outside. Prompto recognises him as a semi regular customer and he spots Prompto grinning broadly as he approaches the counter.

Prompto’s boss glances at him then ducks back into the kitchen.

“Hi,” Prompto says stepping up to the register and offering a smile.

They guys smirks.

“I’m really glad it’s you working,” he says voice louder than it really needs to be.

“Oh yeah?” Prompto says suddenly just a _little_ uncomfortable.

The guy tries to do _something_ and just sort of stumbles into the counter a little.

“When I saw the lights on I thought to myself I’m gonna go get myself a Solstice present,” he says.

Prompto raises his eyebrows, nonplussed and just stares at the guy as his smile pulls wider at first and then dims.

“Your number?”

Prompto blinks, more than a little stunned.

“Oh,” Prompto says, “Um. No thanks?”

The guy frowns and then snorts. “You’re not straight -”

“No,” Prompto interrupts oddly annoyed, “I’m not. I’m just not interested.”

His face sinks down into a full scowl and he snaps, “Why not? What’s the harm?”

Prompto could just say _my boyfriend wouldn’t like it_ and he gets the impression the guy would just back the fuck off but Prompto feels like he shouldn't _have_ to say that, _his_ feelings should be enough.

“I already told you,” Prompto says carefully, to ensure his voice doesn’t waver with nerves, “I’m not interested.”

The guy rolls his eyes. “You’re usually so sweet,” he says, “What happened to that cute little boy?”

Prompto feels his annoyance increase tenfold. Prompto low-key hates being called cute - unless its Gladio apparently - but little boy? _Little boy_. What the _fuck_?

“Guess he didn’t turn up for work today,” Prompto says blandly.

The guy moves then and for a split second Prompto thinks the guy might be trying to grab him or something so he takes a big step back, knocking a short stack of cups off the side. They’re plastic so they don’t break but they do make a small cacophony of noise as the tumble onto the tiled floor.

They guy really glares at him then but before he can say anything else the door to the back swings open and Linc steps out. He takes one look at the cups on the floor, then at Prompto pressed back away from the counter and turns to the customer.

“You ordering?” Linc asks gruffly.

Prompto watches something in the guys jaw tick and then he sakes his head.

“Then get the fuck out of my store.”

Prompto blinks in surprise. The customer bristles.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” he snaps.

“And you can’t do whatever the fuck you just did to my staff,” Linc says, “Get out.”

The guy shoots one last glare at Prompto and then turns tail and stumbles from the store into the waiting circle of his friends. The group makes a lot of noise as the door swings closed but they move off quickly, disappearing into the night.

Prompto doesn’t really know what to do or say so he stoops down to retrieve the cups and then tosses them in the sink they have by the servers station.

“Thanks,” he says, feeling a little awkward. Prompto had always kind of assumed that Linc would just throw any and all of them to the wolves if it meant he could make an extra sale. But apparently even Linc has lines that he won’t have crossed.

Linc shrugs and tells him, “Flip the sign at eleven forty-five. We can be out by twelve.”

Then he disappears again.

Prompto quickly updates his taxi reservation and then turns to wash up the cups before another customer arrives.

Briefly he considers telling Noct or Gladio about what happens but decides it’ll cause more worry than it really deserves.

-

[Gladio 23:57] Let me know when you’re finished/home please? <3

[Prompto 00:03] in the taxi!

[Prompto 00:04] party finished?

[Gladio 00:04] How was work?

[Gladio 00:05] Just having a last night cap with the people that matter.

[Gladio 00:06] And kind of Noct I guess.

[Gladio 00:06] [Image 01684.jpg]

Gladio sends him a shot of an unfamiliar couch, Nyx and Iggy sat close together, Nyx’s arm all soft around Iggy’s shoulders but they’re embrace somewhat ruined by Noct curled up on the other end of the couch with his legs kicked haphazardly over their laps. Prompto wonders when exactly he lost his shoes.

Prompto can just make out Clarus and the King stood behind the couch talking, Iris tucked up under Clarus' arm looking most of the way asleep already.

[Prompto 00:07] work was mostly uneventful but THAT is a lot of blackmail in one picture

[Gladio 00:08] Oh I am making several back ups and copies of this gem.

[Prompto 00:09] i might hang it on my wall (｡♥‿♥｡)

\- - -

Gladio has work the whole day after Solstice and Prompto is completely free which is annoying but something they’re going to have to learn to deal with Prompto supposes. Gladio’s job - Noct - will always come first and that’s not a thing Prompto can be mad about when he too holds that very thing right near the top of his priorities.

The _very_ top of his priorities is becoming a weird mesh of people and things that Prompto never expected.

Prompto lazes the morning away, eating a truly awful mushy, microwave burrito for lunch before deciding to finally tackle the three days of dishes he’d let pile up by his sink because a burrito can be eaten off a paper towel but not a lot of other things can.

He’s up to his elbows in soap studs when there’s a knock on his door.

Prompto’s only a little surprised – and proud - when he manages to get his door open without dripping water everywhere revealing Ignis.

Ignis _had_ let him know he’d be popping round today but his message had been fairly vague to the point where he’d been expecting the adviser to turn up on his way home from work, exhausted from putting out a million little fires that Noct had inadvertently set.

“Hey Iggy,” Prompto greets warmly, pulling the door open wider with his foot and stepping back to let Ignis in. Prompto’s kind of way past being embarrassed by his dinky apartment by now.

They all know what his situation is and they've not judged him for it yet.

Though Ignis probably wouldn't have bought a more affluent friend a mattress topper he supposes.

Ignis follows him inside, dragging behind a truly monstrous cooler that has _wheels_ and parks it by the edge of Prompto’s counters before stepping back to close the door and toe out of his shoes.

“Um,” Prompto says staring at the cooler dumbfounded.

“I hope your freezer isn’t full,” Ignis teases.

It certainly is not, Prompto thinks. He doesn’t have the funds to keep anything more than a weeks worth of food at a time. He only has half a bag of frozen peas and a few of those burritos left. He kind of can't wait to see what Ignis says when he sees them.

Prompto half laughs.

“You want some tea?” Prompto offers.

Ignis glances at Prompto’s still wet hands and his sink filled with soapy water and says, “I’ll do it shall I?”

Prompto has the good sense to blush just a little.

“If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Ignis assures, quickly filling the kettle before moving aside so Prompto can get back on with his cleaning. He rattles around for a moment pulling out his preferred tea bags and Prompto’s teapot - which means Ignis has time to stay for a chat too which is nice. Prompto won’t ever admit it but he’s been just a little lonely the last couple days with everyone so busy.

“How are things at the Citadel?” Prompto asks as he tries to scrub off a particularly stubborn bit of dried on food.

“Oddly quiet right now which unfortunately - for me - means people are trying to slip things past senior administration or tack them on to otherwise inconsequential bills and such,” Ignis explains with a bit of a sigh, “None of them are successful of course, his majesty is too attentive for that but its a pain nonetheless.”

“What kind of bill?” Prompto ask.

“Tax breaks for the already wealthy, that kind of thing. Nothing to benefit anyone that actually needs help,” Ignis says.

Prompto frowns and mutters, “Gross.”

“Indeed,” Ignis says.

Prompto finishes up just as Ignis is pouring tea into two of Prompto’s cups and he dries his hands on his cleanest dish towel before gratefully taking the warm mug. He eyes the cooler again.

“That’s not _full_ is it?” Prompto asks.

Ignis laughs, “No. Don’t fret, it was just the simplest way to carry it all.”

Together they unpack the containers of food, Ignis explaining what is full meals - the ones with heating instructions written in Ignis’ neat hand on top - and some others that are just leftover meat and stuff that Prompto can use for his own meals.

Ignis' mouth is the thinnest, flattest line when he spies Prompto's stash of junk. Prompto smiles as innocently as he can.

Honestly it’s a little overwhelming but when he tries to tell Ignis he doesn’t _need_ it and that maybe it could go somewhere else Ignis tries to assure him that he _deserves_ it and no one else is going to go without so he can have a few luxurious meals. Noct might not have ladled soup on Solstice Eve but apparently he made sure all the shelters still had soup to ladle.

Ignis stacks the last of the containers into Prompto’s freezer and then swings the door closed. Prompto fishes the last item from inside the cooler and straightens up with a sort of lidded jug containing a dark brown liquid.

“Gravy,” Ignis says, “Should be enough for two meals. And I’ll make you some suitable for the freezer when I get some time this week.”

“Ah man, thanks Iggy,” Prompto says softly, feeling a little overwhelmed again.

Ignis takes the gravy from him and tucks it into Prompto’s fridge alongside the dinner he set aside for tonight - and a small peanut butter tart holy shit - and as he comes back round to the counter he reaches to brush over Prompto’s hair and the brief touch settles some of the uneasy feeling in Prompto’s gut.

“Are you seeing Gladio soon?” Ignis asks a little smirk curling his mouth, “His mood has rather diminished since he last saw you.”

Prompto flushes happily this time and buries his own smile in a sip of tea.

“Tomorrow,” Prompto says, “I’m going over to his after work. I wanted him to come over tonight but he won’t because he’s doing some horrendous early shift tomorrow.”

Ignis laughs, “He took on some extra duties to let other people spend the holidays with their young families I believe,” Ignis explains, “He made the arrangements before things with you were settled. Of course.”

“Same,” Prompto says, “I took a tonne of extra shifts during the break so I’d have a buffer of money before school starts up. Not sure it’s worth it _now_.”

Ignis sort of rolls his eyes but reaches for the tea pot to refill both their cups.

\- - -

Prompto doesn’t have nightmares _that_ often any more. And when he does he likes to just get up and carry on like nothing happened - they’re not worth dwelling on, they’re not important. Life isn’t like that any more.

The problem now is that if he wakes violently enough he wakes Gladio too.

“Hey, hey,” Gladio says, hands petting across his torso a little frantically, trying to roll him, Prompto thinks, “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Prompto takes in a few deep shuddering breaths and blinks rapidly to clear his vision. The room is dark though and it takes Prompto a moment to take stock of what he can _feel_ instead - Gladio’s body against his own, skin to skin and warm sheets against his back, soft pillow underneath his head.

The dream is only vague in his mind. He remembers being small and cold and then there being a sharp bite of pain before it was dark. Just _so dark_.

Prompto doesn’t remember a whole lot of his life in the facility, certainly not eight years worth of memories and now all he gets are these vague flashes of misery and pain.

“Prom,” Gladio urges softly and Prompto lets himself go lax, relaxes the way all his limbs are rigid and defensive.

Gladio finally manages to roll Prompto in towards him, cradling Prompto’s body against his broad chest.

Prompto feels small all over again but he’s also warm and _safe_ so he reacts to it immediately, trying to get his arms around Gladio and cling on tight. If Gladio minds the way Prompto’s wristband bumps up against his chest he doesn’t say anything about it.

Gladio strokes down his spine in a way that is ridiculously comforting and grounding. Prompto sighs, finally getting his head tucked under Gladio’s chin so he’s covered and enclosed as much as possible. They’re both naked and Prompto remembers lying back after their coupling and letting Gladio clean him up with a warm cloth from his bathroom, too boneless - and maybe a little sore - to face a shower before morning.

At home he might just wrench himself out of bed now and force himself to do something productive so he can pretend the first years of his life had never happened.

“You wanna talk about it?” Gladio mumbles, still rubbing his back.

Prompto hesitates because he doesn’t know what he _can_ say without getting into a whole thing he’s just not ready for. Especially at what - three in the morning?

“Just a nightmare,” Prompto says back shifting so he can press a kiss to Gladio’s jaw.

Gladio shifts his hand up so it’s carding through Prompto’s hair. “That was a total non answer,” Gladio points out.

Prompto snorts softly and then nuzzles against Gladio’s throat, feeling the rough texture of the edge of his beard against his cheek.

“Sorry,” Prompto says, “But not really - I’m okay though.”

Gladio adjusts them and for half a second Prompto panics, thinks Gladio’s going to roll him away but he simply shifts so Prompto’s both nestled against him and resting gently on the pillow and mattress.

“Sleep then?” Gladio half instructs, half asks.

Prompto hums contentedly, nightmare already fading to the background.

“Thanks,” Prompto says letting his eyes fall closed.

Gladio presses a soft kiss right between his eyebrows.

\- - -

Prompto’s scholarship money comes in just five days before school starts up and he wasn’t _worried_ as such but he totally didn’t want to turn up to his advanced sketching class without a fresh sketchbook.

Not even a little bit.

Linc offers Prompto what he calls an ‘easy shift’ which starts at nine but has him out of the shop at one o’clock which is _nice_ because he barely has to deal with any customers at all but horrible because of a harsh re-acquaintance with his good friends bleach and disinfectant.

Prompto scrubs the kitchen from top to bottom and leans half inside the two double fridges to clean the shelves, which inexplicably don’t come out for some reason.

Real talk Prompto has to balance on a chair to get at the top shelf and he’s kind of glad Erin and Erinn aren’t there to see his shame.

It’s miserable and wet when he clocks out so he sucks up his dislike of spending money on public transport and hops on the bus that takes him across to the other side of town where his preferred art store - read: affordable - resides.

Gladio’s at work _all day_ or Prompto might have sucked up his dislike of asking for stuff and called his boyfriend for a ride. Maybe.

Some of Prompto’s professors are better than others about providing a list of _exactly_ what they’ll need so he wanders the store filling a basket with stuff off a list put together with about eighty percent syllabus guidance and twenty percent clever guesswork.

You can never have too many 2B and B pencils, right?

One of his classes mentions mixed media so he picks out a pack of coloured construction paper, a mid-range craft knife and a metal ruler. He’s clear across the shop before he realises he’ll also need _glue_ and has to circle back to the craft section.

The dumb part of his brain makes him pick up a few canvases _before_ he’s gotten all his paint so he has to try and balance them under his arm while he stocks up on basics and -

“Prom?”

It must be the shock of hearing _that voice_ unexpectedly in an art store that makes him jump so badly both his canvases clatter noisily to the ground.

Gladio rushes to his aid, stooping to pick up Prompto’s fallen canvases before he can even get his bearings back.

“Hey,” Prompto says a little breathlessly, using the front of Gladio’s jacket to tug him down into a warm wet kiss.

“What are you doing here?” Prompto asks when he lets Gladio go.

“I’m here with Iris,” Gladio tells him, reaching to brush some of Prompto’s hair off his forehead, “She wanted some paint and stuff. You getting stuff ready for school?”

Prompto gestures with his basket, “I’m all out of canvases and I need water colour pencils and good chalks for one of my classes.”

“I thought you were working today,” Gladio muses.

“I did an early shift,” Prompto explains, “Which means cleaning.” Prompto makes a noise to truly express how he feels about that and the way his fingers are still _slightly_ pruned from all the water. Maybe he should have worn gloves.

Gladio grins down at him fondly but before he can speak an inquisitive little voice calls, “Gladdy?”

Prompto peers around Gladio to see Iris stood at the end of the aisle peering at them curious, brown eyes.

“Oh,” Prompto says quietly, _completely_ unprepared for meeting who is, arguably, the most important person in Gladio’s life.

Gladio seizes the hand that Prompto isn’t using to tightly clutch his basket and squeezes it.

“Iris. _This_ is Prompto,” Gladio introduces.

Prompto watches her face break easily into what can only be described as elation.

“You drew my moogle!” she says excitedly, almost yelling, “I love my moogle.”

Prompto exhales a little of his worry, thankful he’d managed to make a good impression before he ever met her.

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it,” he tells Iris earnestly. Gladio rubs his thumb over the back of Prompto’s knuckles.

“What did you use for the sparkly bits?” Iris all but blurts.

Prompto blinks once, surprised, and tells her, “Metallic pens.”

“Not shimmer paint?” Iris asks, face falling into a frown that Prompto thinks must have gotten Iris her own way _a lot_ in her fifteen years of life.

“No,” Prompto says shaking his head, “Those are really pretty but they don’t have very good coverage for something like that.”

Iris brings her hands together under her chin and watches as her eyes widen into an almost heartbreakingly pleading expression.

Prompto doesn’t have any siblings, obviously, but he’s pretty sure Iris just wrapped him around her little finger with one blink of her pretty eyes.

Iris wants his camera? Sure. Every single penny in his wallet and bank account? Absolutely. A rare flower that only grows on Ravatogh three days a year? Prompto will start hitchhiking now.

“Will you show me which ones?” Iris asks.

“Of course,” Prompto agrees readily, the task so impossibly easy compared to what he feels like he _would_ do for her.

Iris claps happily and rushes forward to snatch the basket from Prompto’s hands and passing it off to Gladio without so much as a _how do you do_. Iris grabs Prompto’s now free hand and starts dragging him away down the aisle. His and Gladio’s hands staying together until the last possible moment and Prompto shoots his boyfriend a half amused, half terrified look just before they break apart.

Iris must come here at least as much as Prompto because she takes them over to the pens without any issues only slowing down to let Prompto lead her over to the right section of the display.

“These are the ones I use,” Prompto says pointing at a pack of standard metallic shades.

Prompto watches her eyes widen as she takes in the pack hanging next to them which also has metallic _colours_ \- pink and purple and _green_.

Prompto grins, “Bet you could do fun stuff with all of those.”

Hastily, like they might vanish if she doesn’t take them immediately, she snatches a pack off the rack.

“What have you got, Sweet Pea?” Gladio asks from behind them.

Okay, Gladio having adorable pet names for his baby sister? Cute as fuck. Oddly attractive in a way Prompto can’t really explain. A while back Noct had teased him that his therapist would have a field day trying to decipher some of the weird connections in Prompto’s brain. Prompto thinks Noct’s right but he also thinks he’s got some fully repressed memories he’s doesn’t care to explore.

Iris thrusts the pens towards Gladio, “Can I have these?” she asks.

Gladio chuckles and holds out the basket for her to drop them on top of everything else, “Of course.”

Iris beams and then she’s reaching for Prompto’s hand again.

“What did _you_ need?” she asks.

Prompto grabs his phone from his pocket to consult his list and Iris squeezes closer to peer at it too.

“I still need to restock some of my paint -”

“Oops,” Iris says giggling because she had, in fact, just dragged him away from that very aisle.

“And then I need about eight thousand sketch books,” Prompto finishes. Iris giggles again and Gladio shakes his head fondly.

Iris asks Prompto a tonne of questions while he picks out all his paints - why acrylic, why this brand, why are oils so different, does he need different paintbrushes - and Prompto answers as best he can even though a lot of answers just comes down to his personal preference.

Gladio interrupts her at one point, to tell her to stop annoying Prompto but he doesn’t mind _at all_. It’s nice to talk to someone that seems to genuinely share in his interest. Plus Iris is cute and enthusiastic so even when her questions could lean towards tedious Prompto doesn’t _care_.

Eight thousand sketchbooks actually equates to four and Iris scoops them out of his hands to carry, cooing over a baby pink version of them that Gladio promptly adds to the basket.

Gallantry must be genetic.

“All done?” Gladio asks.

Prompto checks over his list one last time and nods. “All set,” he says.

They join a very short queue for the cash register and Prompto reaches for the baskets in Gladio's hand. Gladio tightens his hold.

“I’ll get it,” Gladio says.

Prompto tugs at the basket again and Gladio relents, letting Prompto split the two baskets and shift the few things Iris collected into a separate one. Honestly Prompto had thought about just buying them for her, she hadn’t picked much and Prompto has the cash for it, but he doesn’t want his and Gladio’s first fight to happen today.

He’d like it to happen never, please.

“I don’t mind,” Gladio says, bending to mumble directly in Prompto’s ear, “I like taking care of you.”

Prompto thinks he might quite like being taken care of, just maybe not financially. He can’t quite meet Gladio’s eyes when he explains, “It’s fine. I uh - I have scholarship money to help with art supplies.”

His cheek feel very hot when Gladio gives it a soft peck. The scholarship is a thing everyone knows about but its still embarrassing to have to admit he needs so much aid.

“Clever boy,” Gladio rumbles.

Prompto can’t quite control his grin which is _weird_ considering how he’d reacted to being called a boy on Solstice. That had felt patronising but this feels warm and affectionate.

Context really is everything.

Prompto still shoves at Gladio's chest though because he’s not going to _encourage_ that kind of talk.

“You can give me a ride home though,” Prompto suggests, both eager to _not_ spend more money on transportation and get a little more time with his boyfriend, “Or I’ve got to lug all this stuff on the bus.”

Gladio smiles and Iris chimes in, “Prompto should come for dinner!”

Nope. Nope nope nope. Not ready. Not at all ready.

“ _Iris_ ,” Gladio says, almost sharply.

Iris drops into that impressive pout again, “What? Daddy wants to meet him.”

And realistically Prompto wants to meet him too, just, _not yet_.

Prompto tries to hide behind Gladio a little so Iris can’t see him shake his head in response to Gladio’s look. Prompto doesn’t want to offend Iris _or_ Clarus but he and Gladio are about two weeks into this relationship. It's still fresh and potentially fragile. Prompto thinks that’s too fast by anyone’s standards.

Even if he feels a little head over heels.

\- - -

Prompto's really excited for his photography class this semester. He’d done what was affectionately known as _basics_ last semester and was more theory than anything but is listed as requirement for _every_ other photography course the college offers. IU has a really good art department, second only, realistically, to the Tenebrae School of Arts but it doesn’t actually offer the means to major in photography. Prompto will probably be able to minor in it by the time he’s graduated.

His joy at starting, however, is short lived when his professor projects a list of _unacceptable_ submission subjects on the wall and assigns a research paper in the very first class.

The unacceptable submissions lift might as well read as a who's who of Prompto's favourite things.

Prompto had thought homework wouldn’t be so bad the first week so he’d taken some extra shifts at work. Suddenly he’s facing down a schedule reminiscent of last semester. Any thoughts of being able to squeeze in a proper date with Gladio this week flutter away from reality before Prompto’s half done with his first day back at school.

He’s actually pretty much resigned to not seeing his boyfriend _at all_ before their group friend-date on Friday.

Which he puts down to momentarily forgetting how amazing Gladio is for some reason.

Prompto rushes from his kitchen to open the front door the moment Gladio knocks, curry bubbling along nicely and rice _almost_ done.

Gladio doesn’t let him say hello just bends down to kiss him full on the mouth, opening up Prompto’s mouth with his own and then kissing him deeply and thoroughly until they’re both short of breath.

“Hi,” Gladio mumbles, only pulling back the absolute barest millimetre.

Prompto just sighs and goes up on tip toes again to kiss him some more, fingers clutched in Gladio’s jacket and teeth eager on his bottom lip. Prompto can _just_ feel the chill of outside seeping in around Gladio’s form but Gladio seems completely unconcerned by the cold and effectively keeps Prompto warm.

They’d seen each other on Sunday, gone back to Gladio’s after his appointment at Insomnia Ink and then Prompto had the pleasant surprise of a ride to campus for his early class Monday morning. He won’t let Gladio do it _every_ week of course because Gladio’s one of those lucky people who technically doesn’t have an early start on Mondays but it was certainly a nice way to start his otherwise lacklustre day.

Prompto hears a plop and a hiss and mumbles against Gladio’s mouth, “I need to check the rice.”

Gladio laughs and releases him and Prompto scampers off to save dinner. He listens to the sound of his door closing and even as Gladio’s unzipping his coat he asks Prompto, “How can I help?”

Prompto turns all the burners off and digs out his preferred serving spoon.

“Go get comfy, I’ll bring these over in a sec,” Prompto tells him.

Gladio sort of listens in that he _does_ head over to the couch but he stops off at Prompto’s fridge first to get them both drinks.

“You didn’t have to cook,” Gladio tells him when Prompto hands him the bowl, “We could have ordered something.”

“I totally did,” Prompto says, “Ignis has already asked me _twice_ if I had any luck with this recipe. I think he might take it back if he asked again and the answer was still no.”

Gladio chuckles softly and digs in eagerly with his spoon.

“Wow,” he says, after swallowing it down, “I’ll let Iggy know you had _great_ luck.”

“It’s good?” Prompto asks before shovelling in a spoonful of his own. He’d expected it to be _at least_ passable because _Ignis_ wrote it but maybe nothing special because _Prompto_ was making it.

Prompto’s own tongue answers his question before Gladio’s manages another affirmative. Spicy and just a little sweet, with the deep richness given by the diced dualhorn Prompto had let stew in the sauce since he got home from college this afternoon.

Gladio balances his bowl on his lap and then reaches across to squeeze his thigh.

-

Prompto gets his paper done with little problem but its kind of hard to think about that when Gladio’s hiking his hips up off the bed, bowing Prompto’s back so he can rest the full part of Prompto’s ass against his strong thighs and nudge into Prompto's slick opening with the broad head of his cock.

“Shit,” Prompto moans as Gladio sinks all the way in. One of his legs kind of flails a little and Gladio adjusts him again - pressed tight with his ball nestled right up against Prompto’s ass - so that both Prompto’s knees are hooked over one of his shoulders.

Gladio had suggested they go to bed the moment Prompto had shut down the photo editing software on his laptop, stripping Prompto completely bare and pushing him back onto the bed so he could press his thighs up towards his chest and lick across Prompto’s hole. Prompto had squirmed, all restless need, and _Gladio’s_ impatience had gotten the better of them for a change, quickly abandoning this endeavour for lube slick fingers and careful but firm pressure against Prompto’s rim.

Now Gladio moves in him slowly, sliding in all the way and back out again so he’s barely inside Prompto, holding the blond’s hips steady so he feels almost weightless with just his shoulders against the bed. Prompto throws his head back and clenches the sheet between tense fingers as Gladio fucks into him steadily.

Gladio stops suddenly, buried to the hilt, and uses his grip on Prompto’s hips to _roll_ them against one another. The Shield buries his moan in the flesh of Prompto’s calf, head turned to one side and his eyes shut tight.

“Fuck,” Gladio pants harshly, and then he’s bending forward, pushing Prompto’s thighs up to his chest again and snapping his hips back and forth in a rough, rapid pace.

Prompto keens, cock jerking between them and twisting his fingers so tight he thinks he might tear holes in his sheets.

“Baby,” Gladio says breathlessly, “You gotta - shit. Touch yourself. Now. Please.”

Prompto’s cock gives another helpless little jerk as the request settles over him, just the whisper of a command. Prompto _wants_ to do it, sure, some part of him had already been considering it but he’d be following through now anyway, eager to please - a visceral sort of satisfying _need_ to please.

Prompto licks across his palm and then wiggles his hand into the scant space between his and Gladio’s torso, thighs quivering at the first brush off his hand. His spit is completely useless, as it turns out, because Prompto’s dripped a veritable puddle of pre-come onto his belly, the head of his cock slick _and_ sensitive.

Gladio’s groans out his peak in a hot and messy spurt deep inside Prompto’s clenching channel, continuing to move his hips in a pounding rhythm to help Prompto along to his own finish. The wetness spills from Prompto a little, spreading between them, hot and sticky across Prompto’s thighs.

“That’s it,” Gladio groans, voice deep and rough with satisfaction and Prompto flutters around his length, cries cutting out sharply as his orgasm hits him like a tonne of bricks.

Prompto mumbles unintelligibly as Gladio carefully leans back and gently lowers Prompto’s hips down onto the bed, his cock slipping free past his rim.

“I got you,” Gladio says, chaffing his hands up Prompto’s thighs when he winces, muscles cramping _just_ a little as he moves his legs from his odd pretzel position.

Prompto can feel more mess slide out of him as he settles, his own slipping off his the side of belly onto the bed.

It's fucking _fantastic_.

Gladio makes a satisfied hum.

“Gonna have to change the sheets,” Prompto murmurs annoyed only because that means he has to stand and not because he thinks its not worth it. Not even for a second.

Gladio laughs, pressing a string of soft kisses across Prompto’s collarbones.

Prompto’s heart flutters for some reason.

“Want me to do it while you shower?” Gladio asks.

Prompto sighs.

“You’re perfect,” he says sincerely, “You know that. Perfect.”

\- - -

Noct stares at the small dish of hummus like it might hurt him if he looks away.

“Coward,” Prompto teases.

“Shut up,” Noct says, “It’s made of _beans_.”

Prompto laughs. He actually can’t argue with that.

Prompto tears off a bit of the warm, garlicky flat bread and swipes it through the top of the hummus, popping it in his mouth and barely suppressing a moan at the tastes that bursts on his tongue.

Noct eyes him sceptically before ripping off his own piece to dip into the, well, _dip_. The Prince chews for a long time, expression thoughtful and considering.

“Yeah, okay,” Noct says, “That’s pretty good.” He reaches for another bit.

They’ve got skewers and rice and dumplings coming that are all much more in line with Noct’s taste - though there are definitely _very_ finely diced veggies in the dumplings.

“It’s weird to be here at lunch time,” Prompto muses.

Usually _Yamachang’s_ is full of chattering people and traditional Galahdian music playing just quiet enough to not be obtrusive to conversation and dimly lit in a way that pushes intimacy and relaxation. In the middle of the day, however, it’s brightly lit with no music playing whatsoever just the front doors latched wide open so the sound of the city spills into the restaurant.

“Different vibe,” Noct agrees, happily licking some hummus off his thumb.

Prompto won’t get away with it right now but he makes a mental note to let Ignis know that Noct will, in fact, eat beans under very specific circumstances.

It’s nice to be here though, no matter the exact vibe. Prompto’s kind of exhausted from school and already after just one week. His time with Gladio on Tuesday managed to be the only free time he really had at all.

Plus they started biology today and Prompto already feels out of his depth in just the introductory lecture.

Their food arrives and Prompto idly notices that their server is kind of attractive - not really his type of course, because he’s slender and narrow, barely an inch or two on Prompto. It’s the exact moment Prompto’s fingers grasp a warm skewer that it occurs to him.

“What’s the matter?” Noct asks.

Prompto tries to be subtle as he watches the guy meander through the restaurant. His shoulders are broader than Prompto’s, his body a little more in proportion - even his _posture_ is better. Prompto can’t immediately tell if he’s from Insomnia or not because his hair is a pleasant soft brown, the light scruff across his jaw the same colour.

Objectively he’s better looking than Prompto. No doubt about it.

Noct flicks his forehead.

“Ow,” Prompto mumbles, rubbing the spot.

“What’s the matter?” Noct asks again.

Prompto clears his throat, “Is that him?” He nods his head towards their waiter.

Noct turns briefly to look at him and then turns back to Prompto clearly confused.

“Is that who?” Noct clarifies.

“Y’know, Gladio’s ex.”

Noct frowns, “Gladio doesn’t really have exes.”

“You know what I mean,” Prompto says a little petulantly, “Is that guy the reason Gladio doesn’t come here.”

Prompto snatches up his skewer and takes a slightly too large bite, chewing a little angrily. Noct turns to look at the waiter again.

“Hmm. Think so,” Noct says.

Prompto slumps a little.

What the hell is Gladio doing with _him_? It seems so bizarre when he could have _literally_ anyone else.

“Are you _jealous_?” Noct asks, head tilted to one side like a dog that’s heard a new noise for the first time.

“No,” Prompto says. It’s true. He’s not _jealous_. He can’t really _be_ jealous when Prompto _has_ what this guy so desperately wanted.

Noct tilts his head the other way. Prompto eats a dumpling to avoid explaining what it is that he _is_ feeling. Noct shifts like he’s going to flick Prompto again but then seems to realise that his hands are dirty and kicks him under the table instead.

Prompto kicks him back - or nudges his foot against Noct’s at least - and expels a rough breath of air.

“Feel inadequate, I guess,” Prompto admits weakly.

Noct actual reels back a little in shock.

“What the fuck, dude.”

Prompto shrugs, “Look at that guy. He’s, like, super attractive and I’m -”

“Also objectively very attractive,” Noct blurts, going just a little pink in the cheeks, “Plus. Gladio is so stupid crazy about you.”

Prompto glances back at the server.

“I’m objectively obviously foreign. And the bad kind. That no one likes.”

Prompto’s been lucky enough to escaped any outward xenophobia directly at him as a human being but he knows it happens, saw all the warnings about it when he was pouring over forums before his move.

“He could have anyone,” Prompto adds when Noct is apparently too stunned to speak.

“He _wants_ you,” Noct says urgently, “Like. Literally more than he’s ever wanted anyone in his life.”

“Right,” Prompto says.

He tries to make himself _hear_ it. To listen to what Noct’s saying. Remind himself that _Gladio_ has said this to him as well.

“You see Gladio at all this week?” Noct asks.

“Tuesday,” Prompto says, biting into his skewer again. Prompto flushes a little, remembering what they had done, the eager way Gladio had taken him and the gentle way he’d helped him clean up after, doting and sweet.

Remembers the compliments Gladio had whispered into his thighs and then the curve of his neck as they’d settled in to sleep.

Noct snorts, “You guys have the same dopey lovesick expression. It’s gross.”

Prompto laughs and just that act makes him feel a little better.

“Gladio will be all over you later and you’ll forget this guy ever existed,” Noct says, “Pretty sure Gladio has already.”

Prompto doesn’t know how true either of those statements are but he’s feeling better enough that the words at least make him feel _hopeful_.

-

Noct makes a gross gagging noise as Prompto literally jumps off the couch into his boyfriend’s arms not hesitating for even a second because there’s no doubt in his mind that Gladio will catch him.

Gladio’s forearm is hooked under Prompto’s butt when Prompto leans down to cut off his laugh with a kiss. Gladio starts walking them away from the living area for some privacy so Prompto feels less bad about the way he eagerly slides his tongue into Gladio’s mouth almost immediately. Gladio cups his face with a strong but gentle hand and Prompto sighs into the kiss.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against Gladio’s for a second.

“Hi,” Prompto says a little meekly, feeling a wave of anxiety again and admitting, “Missed you.”

“You saw me on Tuesday,” Gladio reminds him but he only shifts Prompto closer, hitching him more securely against his body rather than putting him down.

“Yeah, but I was all distracted and stuff,” Prompto says by way of an excuse that isn’t _I just saw some other guy you used to put your dick in and I don’t get why you want me_.

“Not _all_ night _,_ ” Gladio says and Prompto closes his eyes and ducks into Gladio’s neck remembering the soft whisper of _you’re so soft_ against his neck and the nip of teeth against his hip and a reverently murmured _I think these freckles are my favourite_.

Prompto nuzzles a soft kiss into the edge of Gladio’s jaw and squeezes around his shoulders as best he can.

Maybe Noct _is_ right. Gladio wouldn’t be here like this now if it wasn’t _Prompto_ he wanted.

Prompto hopes that feeling lasts.

Gladio puts him back on the ground and Prompto leads the way back to the living room, settling into his vacated spot next to Noct on the couch. He’s offered the controller back - he hadn’t _died_ so it’s technically still his turn - but there’s a puzzle coming up with a insta-death fail condition so Prompto’s _pretty sure_ Noct will be passing it back over soon enough anyway.

“How was school?” Gladio asks when he’s settled into his customary armchair.

“Fine,” Noctis says carelessly.

Without thinking Prompto complains, “I’m gonna fail biology.”

Noct punches him squarely in the arm, just above the elbow. That really kind of smarts, honestly.

“ _Ouch_.”

“You’re not going to fail,” Noct promises.

“You don’t know that,” Prompto tries to argue.

“Yes I do,” Noct all but snaps, “Literally no one in this room is going to let that happen.”

“You can’t take the exam for me,” Prompto points out. They’ll definitely help him through his coursework okay but only Prompto’s brain can get him through his exams.

“I’ve gotten Noctis through every exam he’s ever taken,” Ignis suddenly says, appearing from the kitchen with no warning, “Even the ones he seemed dead set on failing,” Ignis carries on in a pointed tone. Next to him Noct lets out the barest huff of laughter and that’s a story Prompto wants to hear later for sure.

Ignis hands out the drinks on his tray and Prompto takes his sparkling wine gratefully, way past caring about how _girly_ it apparently is. Seriously, why do people try and gender _everything_? It’s a drink for Gods’ sake.

Ignis turns to Gladio apologetically and says, “I didn’t realise you’d arrived. Whiskey or beer?”

“I’m good,” Gladio dismisses with a wave of his hand, “I’ve got to drive later.”

“Just crash here,” Noctis says at once, “Even Iggy’s drinking.”

Prompto’s _pretty sure_ Noct was supposed to let Gladio know about these plans before. Prompto knows, hence the change of clothes and toothbrush in his backpack.

“Celebrating a successful return to classes,” Ignis explains.

Prompto scoffs without thinking. Successful his _ass_.

“ _Dude_ ,” Prompto seethes when Noct punches his arm again, “Don’t make me get my boyfriend to beat you up.”

Gladio laughs but doesn’t refuse the notion so Prompto takes it as a win.

“If we all crash won’t someone be on the couch?” Gladio asks Ignis, “And by someone I unfortunately mean you. Unless you wanna spoon Prom but let me warn you, he’s a fidget.”

“ _Hey_!” Prompto says in mock outrage. It's kind of true though.

“This couch is more than acceptable,” Ignis points out, gesturing along the faintly _obscene_ length of it, “I can even lie completely straight without my feet hanging over the end.”

Gladio reaches for Prompto’s hand and Prompto turns to look at him fully.

“You wanna stay?” Gladio asks, fully putting the decision in Prompto's hands.

Prompto nods smiling and Gladio squeezes his fingers before starting to stand.

“I’m sold then. But sit the fuck down Iggy, I can get my own drink.”

-

Prompto really hadn’t thought that Gladio would indulge him.

And he’d thought any indulgence that _did_ happen would maybe amount to a hasty round of blow jobs or letting Prompto grind himself against his thigh.

He certainly didn’t expect Gladio to slap his hand over Prompto’s mouth and fuck slowly into him from behind, the pressure of being split open more intense than ever due to a somewhat hasty preparation and slow aching grind.

Sure there’s an annoying layer of latex separating him from the heat of his boyfriend but he’ll allow the addition just this one time as long as Gladio _doesn’t stop_ rolling his hips.

“You gonna be a good boy for me?” Gladio says quietly against his ear.

There it is again. Those words that had upset him so much the other day said again in yet another context that Prompto doesn’t hate.

Doesn’t hate _at all_.

Really fucking likes it, actually.

Prompto nods as eagerly as he can with Gladio’s hand firm on the lower part of his face. Gladio gives his cock a few slow strokes and Prompto lets out a muffled whine against the Shield’s palm.

“You’re not gonna come until I say so, okay?”

Following orders must be hardwired into Prompto’s DNA because that’s the only thing that explains how he doesn’t just come on the spot because it sort of feels like he does. His cock oozes some of that mess Gladio is so worried about and Prompto has to press his teeth into Gladio’s palm to stay quiet.

Prompto nods.

He’s pretty sure he would do anything Gladio asks. Wonders, in fact, what kind of stuff Gladio might ask him to do if he had permission to make _any_ request he wanted. Wonders at what point Prompto would bristle at the order and say no.

Wonders if Prompto even _has_ that point.

“Tell me if it gets too much,” Gladio demands, dropping a gentle kiss to Prompto’s jaw in juxtaposition to his order as he starts to work Prompto over with steadier strokes to his cock and rougher thrusts into his ass.

There’s something intense about having to be so furtive about it. A strange pleasure in the way Gladio’s not really fucking into him like he normally does, the physicality of his thrusts reduced by necessity but the power behind them the same. Gladio’s cock drags across his prostate slower than normal, the pressure so deep that it almost _burns_.

Prompto feels his release bubbling in the very pit of his belly almost without warning and he taps at Gladio’s hand to get him to stop, to reduce the pleasure just enough for Prompto to hold off.

Gladio grasps Prompto’s hip instead and starts pulling him back against his cock, both of their hips moving together in a beautiful rhythm that almost has Prompto spilling without the extra stimulation. Prompto thinks its only Gladio’s previous demand that has him holding off, cock painfully hard, bobbing against his belly.

Gladio’s forehead presses between Prompto’s shoulder blades as he lets out a low grunt, almost like he’s in pain, shoving himself so hard into Prompto the bed creaks and hands almost bruising Prompto's hips as he holds him steady while he finds his release.

Prompto’s panting against Gladio’s hand now, desperate and on edge already, not wanting to rush his boyfriend but not sure exactly what will happen if he has to wait any longer -

Gladio slides free of Prompto’s body, breathing harshly, and rolls Prompto onto his back so he can effortlessly drag him across the mattress until it’s seemingly no trouble to dip down and swallow Prompto’s cock into his beautiful mouth.

“ _Yes_ ,” Prompto whispers, threading both hands into Gladio’s thick hair.

It’s fast, of course, but then Prompto’s _almost_ come twice already. So he just bites down on his bottom lip so hard it hurts and tries not to cry out at the feeling of wet heat around his dick.

Prompto thinks he maybe whites out for a moment when he comes, finding himself again when Gladio nuzzles against the freckles he’d talked about the other day and rubs his hands up over Prompto’s trembling thighs.

Prompto doesn’t actually know how Gladio gets rid of his condom, not sure he really _wants_ to know, just lifts his hips lazily when Gladio climbs back onto the bed to slide boxers up his thighs. He’s pretty boneless when Gladio helps him into the t-shirt the larger man had been wearing all day.

Gladio smells really fucking good. Just - so good. It’s not fair.

When Gladio reclines on his back Prompto slides right up to his side, draping himself as much on top of Gladio as he thinks he can get away with, desperate to be close. Gladio helps with that by sliding his hand underneath the t-shirt he just dressed Prompto in, caressing the small of his back.

Prompto shouldn’t be insecure right _now_. Gladio just sexed him to near death but there's a little niggle in the back of his head, tapping at his subconscious and slowly infesting the joy of his afterglow.

Gladio had condoms in his bag.

But they don’t _use_ condoms any more.

Gladio _wouldn’t_ , Prompto knows he wouldn’t but the toxic thought _tap tap taps_ right at Prompto’s confidence, chipping away at it so fast it terrifies him.

Prompto’s fingers find the edge of the beak on Gladio’s chest, little finger tracing the line of a feather against his burnished skin.

Gladio _wouldn’t_.

Gladio suddenly cinches him a little tighter, an affectionate squeeze accompanied by the question, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Prompto blurts quickly.

Gladio kisses his hair, hand soft against Prompto’s back and doesn’t say anything at all, doesn’t push for answers or demand Prompto explain himself.

Prompto takes a deep breath and steels himself to say, “I just wondered why you had the condoms in your bag,” all in one breath.

As soon as the words are out there Prompto feels bad, ridiculous for asking. Prompto’s pretty sure he already knows the answer before Gladio even says it.

“I forgot they were there,” Gladio says simply.

Prompto props his chin on Gladio’s chest so he can look into his boyfriend’s eyes, upset with himself both for putting the concerned expression there and the fact that he can still feel it inside himself, that damned need for reassurance.

Gladio smooths the hair off Prompto’s forehead and offers a small but earnest smile.

“It’s just you and me, yeah?” Gladio says.

Prompto nods.

Gladio frowns just a little and grips Prompto’s chin gently to tug their mouths together. There’s something infinitely reassuring about the way Gladio’s mouth tastes like _him_ , a little bitter but undeniably a reminder of what they just did together. Prompto opens his mouth and presses his tongue into Gladio’s, searching for more of that reassurance.

When they separate Gladio keeps Prompto’s chin between his fingers to ensure he can’t duck away from his gaze in the dim room.

“You and me,” Gladio promises, “Don’t ever think for even a second there’s anything more that I want.”

Prompto feels the smile blossom across his face as the traitorous thoughts from before quieten down to the point where Prompto can’t hear them any more.

Gladio likes him. Gladio chose him. Over everyone else he _chose_ Prompto.

Prompto nuzzles into the dip between Gladio’s pecs, drops a soft kiss and settles his head down again, letting himself be lulled to sleep by the steady thump of Gladio’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignis probably suggested taking Prompto to hand out gifts with them but Noct’s over-protectiveness just screamed and was like ‘nope that’s probably really triggering to my experimented upon friend he can stay home’, despite the fact that Prompto's the reason Noct even wanted to give to some needy kids in the first place.  
> Sometimes stuff happens in this story that was never planned for in Saturation and I bet you can tell.  
> Working title for the next chapter is Love? And it has a moment between Ignis and Prompto (and Nyx) that I’m so excited for, I’ve had it planned and pretty much ready to go since I decided to write this. It’s peak adorable Prompto and Mama-Iggy.  
> Oh and also upcoming: Rosie ;)


	10. Love or Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto settles into his new normal but he also has a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next two chapters are where having read Saturation is most important because it focuses on different parts in the first three/four months of their relationship. If you're only reading this you might be missing some key stuff that happens in chapters 9-10 in that.  
> Edit for Saturation: I changed Noct’s safe house away from Iggy’s apartment because I’m not a trained security professional or anything but having your safe house in the same building as your own apartment feels like a bad idea.  
> And I apologise for saying Rosie would be in the chapter, she’s not and I feel bad but the next chapter is literally called Rosie Amicitia. So. Forgive me? This was already super long and her first appearance comes after Prompto meets Clarus for the first time.

Prompto has a rule about not staying at Gladio’s two nights in a row. He doesn’t know exactly _why_ the rule exists or when he came up with it but he keeps it firmly in place so no one can ever look at him and think he’s taking advantage of his boyfriend’s money or kindness.

But yesterday they stayed at _Noct’s_ so while it definitely toes the line of that rule when Gladio asks if he wants to come over and Prompto says yes it doesn’t _break_ it. Technically.

He manages to convince Gladio to let him bus over and as such he gets off at the closest stop - eight minutes at Prompto’s _determined_ walking pace - after working a lunch shift with a backpack weighed down by a change of clothes, his laptop and enough school stuff to get a bit of work done.

Spending time with Gladio is amazing but Prompto really can’t let himself fall behind - especially so early in the semester - or he can kiss that luxury completely goodbye.

Prompto makes his way meekly past the security guard and steps into elevator, pushing the familiar button for Gladio’s floor.

“Hold,” someone calls just moments before the doors close and Prompto jams his arm into the small gap, forcing them open again. Only _after_ does he remember there’s a button on the panel for that very reason.

“My thanks,” the man says stiffly, hitting a button for a floor several above Gladio’s and only just missing out on hitting Prompto with his briefcase.

Prompto just smiles at him, not really in the mood to talk to someone with their face fixed on the screen of their phone. The man's suit probably costs more than Prompto’s camera, phone and laptop combined.

“You don’t appear to have food with you,” suited and scowling points out with barely a sideways glance at Prompto.

“Sorry?”

“I assumed you were a delivery boy.”

Prompto frowns, “I’m visiting someone,” he explains though he’s not really sure why, “My boyfriend.”

The man sighs, “Of course.”

Prompto doesn’t really know what to make of that and he’s saved from the effort of trying to work it out by the elevator stopping on the sixteenth floor, door sliding smoothly open.

“Have a good evening, I guess,” Prompto says but he gets no response, the man just leaning forward to press the door close button the moment Prompto’s first leg is in the hallway.

Prompto shakes his head as he makes his way towards Gladio’s door, tapping out a short rhythm.

It takes Gladio a minute to answer the door and he does so with a dish towel slung over his shoulder.

“Hey babe,” Gladio says simply leaning in for a quick peck before moving aside to let Prompto enter.

“Hey,” Prompto says stopping by the door to unlace his boots - good for keeping his feet dry, a huge hassle to actually get on and off. Gladio seems to have gone straight back to the kitchen so Prompto calls, “Good day at work?”

Gladio makes a non-committal noise that Prompto only just picks up.

“Paperwork day,” Gladio eventually says after Prompto’s made his way over and into the stool at the end of Gladio’s breakfast bar. Prompto’s backpack thumps down onto the floor.

Gladio’s _cooking_.

Prompto can’t work out what it is but there’s a large pot of water waiting on stove with no heat underneath it and the oven light is on. Gladio’s working on _something_ but the bulk of his form is hiding it from view.

“I thought you didn’t cook,” Prompto blurts.

Gladio turns over his shoulder to shoot him a smile.

“I can’t cook like Iggy,” Gladio explains, “But Jared taught me how to roast meat and potatoes.”

Prompto leans up and around from his seat and peeks around his arm to watch him rub some sort of oil and herb concoction onto the outside of a cut of dark coloured meat.

Prompto is bad at identifying stuff.

“Garula?” Prompto guesses. 

Gladio chuckles. “Dualhorn - but to be fair the meat looks the same.”

Gladio bends to slide the dish into the over. He washes and dries his hand and then comes over to Prompto to steal a proper kiss.

Prompto tilts his head all the way back and pushes up as far as he can go, returning each press of Gladio’s lips with one of his own. Gladio strokes tenderly down the column of his throat and Prompto shivers.

“Hi,” Prompto whispers when Gladio’s pulled back.

Gladio grins and pecks him on the nose.

“And yours?” Gladio asks quietly, “Work day, that is.”

Prompto shrugs in Gladio’s hold, “Lunch on a Saturday. Teenagers.”

“Gross,” Gladio teases with another peck.

Prompto slumps into Gladio’s hold a little to absorb a rapid hit of comfort.

“Hey,” he mumbles into Gladio’s chest, “You mind if I get a bit of school stuff done?”

“Of course not,” Gladio says pulling away, “You need anything?”

“Just somewhere to set up my laptop,” Prompto explains, grabbing his bag back up and starting to unpack said laptop, “This baby gets a _sweet_ eighteen minutes on a full battery.”

Prompto looks around, wondering if he’ll have to move to the living room but then there’s a faint grinding noise and he looks over to watch Gladio finish pulling his microwave forward so he can get his hands behind it to take the plug out.

Prompto quickly retrieves the cable, double checks the adaptor is on the end and passes it to Gladio so he can trail it along the back of the counter, tucked behind the chopping board he has laid out and plug it into the wall.

“There we go,” Gladio says sounding pleased, “Now I can look at you while I chop stuff.”

Prompto, of course, blushes. Gladio grins and Prompto suspects he did made him do it on purpose.

Resolutely he opens Prompto laptop and asks, “You any good at biology?”

“So so,” Gladio admits, “But I’m good at looking stuff up.”

“Perfect.”

-

“You should cook more often,” Prompto says drowsily, even going so far as to pat his stomach.

Gladio snorts, “That's literally the only thing I know. And, honestly, I only did it because when I told Iggy I was having you over and was going to order in for us – again - he gave me that disappointed look - you know that one?”

Prompto nods. He’s seen it but as of yet has never been directly on the receiving end of it.

Thank the Gods.

“Yeah, so he looked at me like that and asked if I didn’t care about you as much as he thought because I was obviously trying to give you sodium induced heart failure.”

Prompto bursts into breathless laughter.

“When _really_ all I wanna do is give you stuff you like - you know,” Gladio says, scooping his shaking form up against his side.

Prompto wiggles around until he’s spread over Gladio’s lap.

“Well I liked that,” Prompto assures him, “And I've never even one time thought you were trying to poison me with salt.”

“As long as we’re clear,” Gladio teases softly, pulling him in for a kiss.

Prompto’s _way_ too full to consider getting up to much right now but he’s totally down for making out on the couch for a bit before school work beckons again.

-

Prompto blazes through half his assigned reading while Gladio watches a Blitzball game. Prompto’s not really interested in the sport but it’s nice to know they can hang out like this all the time and that last Tuesday at _his_ apartment wasn’t a fluke.

It’s calm and comfortable. Like hanging out with Noct but also a little different somehow.

Different because Prompto’s expectations that he’ll go to bed naked are pretty well founded when he and Gladio turn in for an early night and Prompto finds himself shortly flat on his back with Gladio working him over with warm hands, wet mouth and gentle teeth.

Prompto’s so lost in the feeling that he’s not cognisant of _why_ Gladio’s pulling away at first, too focused on the fact that he is.

“No,” he whines, trying to follow after Gladio with grabby hands.

Gladio just chuckles, shaking his head and steps across the room to retrieve his jeans that hold his - Prompto now realises - ringing phone.

Only sulking a little Prompto twists onto his front and then crawls to the end of the bed and pillows his head on his folded arms, better to admire his boyfriends ass as he paces the room.

“Hey Dad,” Gladio says into the phone.

Prompto bites his lip as he smiles, trying to beckon Gladio back over - the big guy shakes his head slowly and mouths _absolutely not_. Prompto pouts instead but Gladio still just shakes his head.

“I don’t think he needs to be dismissed outright,” Gladio says into the phone, “But his work ethic is awful - and I have concerns about the way he treats other recruits.” Gladio simply listens for a while making a few low noise of assent.

“No one has actually complained about hazing but I found a pile of clothes in the showers the other day and historically its a thing that -” Gladio cuts off, “Yeah, I’ll look into it. See if some of them think I’m more approachable. If not Nyx can try - even Noct maybe, we’ll see. Nah, Ignis is probably more threatening than _me_.” Gladio laughs. “Don’t worry about it, just stop now and spend some time with Iris - yeah. Just have Prompto over -”

Prompto picks his head up, alert.

“Huh. No. He just hates you for interrupting our evening -”

“ _Gladio_ ,” Prompto yells and Gladio laughs, joined in by his father who Prompto can _just_ hear on the other end. Prompto drops his head back down, playfully glowering up at his boyfriend’s smirking face.

“Sure thing, Dad. Yeah, see you on Monday. Love you too, bye.”

Gladio hands up his phone and places it down on the bedside table. He comes to stand in front of Prompto and pleasantly strokes over his hair.

Prompto pointedly ignores him.

“Baby,” Gladio tries to cajole, “Dad knew I was joking.”

Gladio strokes down the length of back, leaning all the way over Prompto to playfully pat his ass.

Prompto lifts his head to nuzzle Gladio’s thigh, cheek _just_ brushing against Gladio’s cock. His hardness as flagged somewhat during the phone call with his father and Prompto understands - sure _he_ doesn’t have a dad but if he did Prompto’s sure talking to him on the phone would kill his boner too.

Gladio almost gasps. A soft but sharp little inhale that has Prompto shifting forward and up just a little start mouthing at him proper, nose tickled by the wiry hair at Gladio’s base.

“Maybe I should upset you more often,” Gladio murmurs, hands still warm and comforting on Prompto’s back.

Prompto laughs softly starting to work down Gladio’s length with tiny little kitten licks - feeling it plump up and harden further beneath his teasing caresses. By the time Prompto’s got his mouth around the head of Gladio’s cock he’s fully hard again with one of his hands sliding between Prompto’s ass cheeks to press against but not into his entrance.

“What do you want, Freckles?” Gladio asks roughly.

Prompto frees his mouth long enough to remind his boyfriend, “You promised to make a mess of me.”

“I did,” Gladio agrees, pressing his hips forward when Prompto opens his mouth wider to take him in.

“Your mouth is fucking _in_ credible,” Gladio tells him as she shifts backwards and then back in for a deeper thrust into Prompto’s waiting mouth. Prompto hums happily at the praise, kicking his legs a little playfully.

Prompto puts one hand onto Gladio’s thigh for a little leverage and bobs his head a few times. When he pulls off again Gladio makes a low noise of distress.

Prompto turns over onto his back, ignoring his own dick twitching against his belly, and nuzzles against Gladio’s dick again as it comes to rest hot and heavy along his face. He elongates his neck, reaching to mouth against Gladio’s base and waits to see if Gladio will take the hint. Prompto feels Gladio settle above him, one hand bracing him on the bed but the other coming to pin one of Prompto’s thighs in place.

And fucking _fuck_ if that doesn't just _do_ something to him.

“Like this?” Gladio checks even as he shifts his hips back so the tip of his cock is angled against Prompto’s waiting tongue.

“Please,” Prompto breaths around the flesh.

Gladio swears as he starts to slide in and Prompto moans around his length at how _easy_ this feels, at how simply Gladio’s pressing inside his mouth with no resistance.

Gladio pulls free in one quick movement and Prompto whines, kicking his unpinned leg out petulantly. Gladio releases his other thigh then, reaching for one of Prompto’s hands and pressing it firmly into his own thigh.

“Just in case,” he says roughly, “Astrals baby I don’t know if I can control myself - you feel _too_ good.”

Prompto squeezes Gladio’s thigh encouragingly - he’s not going to _want_ Gladio to stop or control himself but if this makes Gladio feel better equipped to take Prompto, to _use_ him, then so be it.

Gladio pins him down again, reaching higher up for Prompto’s hip this time and Prompto can’t even squirm an millimetre when the head of Gladio’s dick first breaches his throat. The noise Gladio makes far outshines Prompto’s breathless own moan and Prompto’s proud of himself because that’s not a noise he’s ever heard Gladio make before.

Like Gladio’s overwhelmed by how _Prompto_ feels.

Gladio pulls back and thrusts back in, inching deeper into Prompto’s throat, over and over again. Prompto’s heady with the feel of it, the remarkable power he has here over this goliath of a man while flat on his back unable to move.

Gladio makes another one of those noises and his next inward thrust jerks a little roughly against Prompto’s throat. It doesn’t hurt but it makes Prompto aware that Gladio seems to be right at the edge _already_.

Not that Prompto could tell you how long they've been doing this – could be four seconds could be forever.

But Prompto has one more special request of his boyfriend.

Prompto taps Gladio’s thigh and he pulls back at once.

“Sorry,” he says, breathing rough, “You just felt so -”

“Come on my face,” Prompto demands.

“Shivah’s fucking -”

“You promised,” Prompto reminds him, “T'make a mess of me.”

Gladio nods and lest go of Prompto’s hip so he can angle his dick back into Prompto’s mouth with his hand, pace starting off slower than before, his thigh impossibly tense under Prompto’s fingers. Prompto tries to swallow around him, egg Gladio on and make it _better_ , but he’s really just along for the ride now as Gladio fucks his mouth wide open, both hands braced against the bed now like he needs the extra support.

It’s both too soon and not soon enough when Gladio pulls back roughly, hand flying to his own dick to work himself roughly, furiously.

Prompto tilts his head back a little more and opens his mouth wide, hoping for a little taste too.

Maybe Prompto's selfish, but he's sure Gladio won't complain.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Gladio bites out as he bursts in several hot pulses that land across Prompto’s face and even so far down as the top of his chest. Prompto moans outright, closing his mouth around the dot that lands on his tongue, relishing the taste of his boyfriend in reward for a job well done.

It’s all a bit much then, Gladio heaving for breath over him and his own arousal having gone completely ignored. Prompto reaches for his length, starting to work at himself with short rough strokes as Gladio’s spend rapidly cools on his face.

Gladio only snaps back into alertness when Prompto starts moaning again, low and needy at the stimulation after what feels like an eternity without. Gladio watches Prompto’s hand moving for a few agonisingly long moments before lowering himself onto the bed at Prompto’s side, propped up on one arm with his head near Prompto’s thighs. Prompto turns his own head in towards Gladio’s thighs, burying his cries into the muscles there, heedless of the mess he's probably spreading around.

“Gladio,” Prompto whines, slowing his hand while he waits for Gladio to take over or _something_.

“Come on,” Gladio goads, “I wanna see.”

“Help me,” Prompto begs even though he’s started moving his hand faster again, twisting it just the way he likes when he’s trying to hurry himself along.

Gladio leans to brush a barely there kiss just above Prompto’s knee and then shifts away again, “ _Sho_ w me _._ ”

Prompto does.

Pulling out all the stops, arching his back more than he would if he were alone and spreading his legs to give Gladio the best view.

Performing like this gives Prompto the same dark thrill that sending photos does, Gladio’s gaze dark and hungry as they flicker from Prompto’s groin and up to his face over and over, like he doesn’t know which one he prefers.

“So beautiful,” Gladio murmurs, hand skirting over Prompto’s knee but no further.

Prompto pants harshly as he brings his second hand down to help, palming over his head and then reaching to gently squeeze his balls as they starts to tighten, drawing up towards his body with his impending release.

He should be able to last longer than this, he’d barely been touched before Gladio came, only fondled to hardness before Gladio’s phone call, barely any stimulation whatsoever.

“Come on,” Gladio encourages, “You’re so close.”

Prompto bites into his lip and it _hurts,_ a tight little prick of pain as his entire body seizes, coil winding tight tight tight and snapping all at once and his hand is pushing and squeezing his release out onto his own belly, up to his chest and mixing in with Gladio’s come.

Absently he feels Gladio kiss his thigh again but mostly he just lies there, chest heaving as he calms down - definitely not noticing that Gladio’s gotten himself up and off the bed until he's already back again.

Fingertips gently grip his chin, tilting Prompto’s face so Gladio can clean him up with gentle swipes of a warm wet cloth.

“Well. You’re certainly a mess,” Gladio tells him, “Mission accomplished.”

Prompto stretches languidly, all his limbs aching in a satisfying way as he pushes them outward.

“Good,” Prompto says, “Was what I wanted.”

Though admittedly he feels a bit gross _now,_ at the time it was everything he’d been hoping for.

Prompto wonders about the being pinned down think – wonders if he'd like being restrained by anything that isn't Gladio's hands. Or if Gladio's hands are the source of his enjoyment.

Gladio wipes away everything Prompto can feel on his face and and then works diligently around his temple, strokes a little firmer than before.

“If it’s in my hair I have to shower,” Prompto says laughing.

Gladio pulls the cloth away and kneels down at the foot of the bed to kiss him upside down.

“Good idea,” he muses, “Need me to hold you up?”

Prompto swats blindly at his shoulder. But also, “Yes please.”

\- - -

“What are you doing?” Noct asks idly as Prompto runs the edge of his metal ruler over the fold he just made.

“I didn’t know it was Iggy’s birthday until two days ago,” Prompto complains, “So I didn’t save any money to buy him something and he’s gonna have to make do with a dumb home made card and that picture of the city library he likes so much.”

“Okay, wow,” Noct say, dropping his phone onto the couch and sitting up at full alert, “Why are you so mad about it - Iggy would love it if you just said _happy birthday_. Anything else is a bonus.”

Prompto’s not _mad_. But he is frustrated. Ignis had very thoughtfully gotten Prompto a small carry case for his sketching pencils to stop them from getting broken and the tips blunted when he’s out and about.

And Prompto was getting him sweet fuck all.

Well - he had scraped together as much money as he could afford to buy Ignis a frame for the photograph. Gladio had come with him, picking him up from school and taking him to a mid-range department store so Gladio could pick up the sheets and stuff he needs now Prompto was staying over a few times a week.

Prompto would feel bad about it but its just too much fun ruining them in the first place.

Prompto hadn’t really been able to afford the one he actually wanted - he’s already out of campus snack money for the next couple weeks and short of forgoing _all_ food it was the best he could do. Gladio had offered to lend him the money to get it. Lend here meaning, Prompto knows, give and then never let him pay it back. Noct would have offered too and Prompto pointedly didn’t take him along because he’s just not as susceptible to Prompto’s stubborn pout.

The art Prompto made for Iggy’s card is pretty cool though - Ignis seems to really like watercolours so Prompto had stepped way out of his comfort zone to paint him a stylised can of Ebony - of course. Prompto hopes its the exact kind of dumb thoughtfulness Ignis will be pleased with.

Noct kicks him gently to encourage a response.

“When is Gladio picking us up?” Prompto asks instead. Even though he knows the answer.

“Uh, like forty minutes. Ish,” Noct says.

They’re going to a restaurant fancy enough that a _jacket_ is required. No tie though, all of his friend’s had reassured him, and Prompto and Noct are close enough in size that Ignis had just pulled out two from Noct’s closet this morning when he’d popped round to make sure Noct knew how to properly dress himself for the evening.

Not that Ignis really though Noct _wouldn't_ know but they both knew he would definitely try to pretend he didn't.

Prompto owns a dress shirt and smart pants obviously, he’s a dab hand at job interviews.

“I’m raiding your envelope stash,” Prompto tells Noct getting to his feet.

“The fact that you know where that is and I don’t amuses me,” Noct says offhandedly, scooping up his phone again.

Noct actually has a small office space in his apartment but mostly the prince uses it for storing stuff he doesn’t want cluttering up the rest of his apartment. It’s the one mountain Ignis refuses to climb, letting Noct do his school work and read Citadel reports wherever in the apartment he chooses. Prompto only knows this room exists because he’d followed Ignis into it when the adviser had offered him an envelope for the card Prompto had made Iris.

Something about this feels oddly full circle.

Prompto digs out an envelops the right size, quickly but _neatly_ writes Ignis a birthday message and then shoos Noct along and into his dinner clothes - the _only_ task that was actually asked of him for the day.

-

“You want my weird carrot mush?” Noct mutters to him, sliding the bowl towards Prompto.

It genuinely _is_ a weird carrot mush but it’s also _delicious_ so Prompto eats through his small bowl and then devours Noct’s too.

The second course turns out to be some sort of cheese tart that’s savoury and delicious but Prompto only eats a bit of it before passing it off to Noct. They’ve got six more courses to go and Prompto doesn’t want it ruined by a stomach ache.

“Are you kids gonna be trading food all night?” Nyx teases when he catches sight of them. Nyx, Ignis and Gladio have been quite involved with a heated debate since they sat down. At first Prompto had thought it was work because it sounded like political drama and gossip.

Then he realised it was a _book_.

“Call me a kid again and I’ll have you fired,” Noct says around a mouthful of cheese and pastry. Nyx tosses his head back to laugh.

Gladio's laugh makes him chokes on his mouthful so Ignis reaches to pat his back with one hand like the sudden attention on their table bothers him not at all.

He’s probably used to it to be fair.

Prompto wordlessly hands his boyfriend his water glass and Gladio takes it with a grateful smile.

“Did you want me to ask them to bring you something else?” Ignis asks Prompto kindly.

Prompto shakes his head quickly, he absolutely does not want to be responsible for a _fuss_ in a place like this.

“I doubt I’ll be hungry,” Prompto says, “There’s so much food left.”

“And wine,” Nyx says, tilting his glass towards Prompto, “Don’t forget the wine.”

Nyx flinches and then laughs and Prompto suspects someone might have kicked him under the table. Prompto’s money is on Iggy.

“Sorry, babe,” Nyx says leaning across to peck Ignis lightly on the cheek, “Best behaviour now I promise.”

Ignis actually goes faintly pink and its one of the cutest things Prompto’s ever seen. Prompto didn’t even know Ignis _could_ get flustered.

It's sweet.

Prompto glances sideways at Gladio, who always looks pretty perfect to Prompto’s eyes, but is looking particularly delicious this evening. His jacket makes his shoulders look even _broader_ somehow, the crispness of his shirt just asking to be all mused up and unbuttoned.

“You keep looking at me like that and we’ll have to leave early,” Gladio mutters, voice suddenly close to his ear.

It’s an empty threat, they’re not even going to get to go home together tonight but it makes Prompto smile anyway.

“I’m sure they’ve got bathrooms,” Prompto teases but evidently not quietly enough because Noct suddenly groans unhappily and tosses one of his as yet unused spoons across the table at him.

 _That_ Ignis absolutely is bothered by.

-

On the way to the car Ignis stops Prompto to thank him again for his gift.

“It was very thoughtful, I’ll be framing the painting too.”

Prompto blushes and drags a hand through his hair nervously.

“I wish I could have gotten you _more_ ,” Prompto admits.

Gladio had gotten Ignis some signed _Nel Contos_ novels along with the promise to take him to the bookshop he found them in for lunch the following week. Prompto doesn't know what the books are exactly but Ignis had seemed thrilled and touched.

Astrals know what Noct and Nyx had gotten him. Prompto’s kind of doesn’t want to know.

Ignis rolls his eyes a little and tugs a surprised Prompto into a hug. It takes Prompto a second to make his arms work and return the hold.

“Nonsense,” Ignis tells him while he smooths out Prompto’s hair again, “It was more than enough. You being here was more than enough.”

\- - -

Prompto’s staring at the date on his phone - wondering how in the hell it’s _March_ already - when suddenly a message from an unknown number flashes across his screen.

[Unknown Sender 15:21] locked out of house and phone. with g&i. all safe. sorry to cancel tomorrows meeting on short notice. will call you to reschedule. no need to respond - regal arapaima

Prompto has to look up what an arapaima _is_ before it really settles over him that the message is from Noct. Then a little longer to piece together what it all means.

He _just_ left Noct on campus - well a little over an hours ago - Noct has classes this afternoon and then dinner with his Dad so Prompto had headed home to get a start on some of his messier art projects. His plan had been to get them done tonight as Gladio’s taking Iris to the movies before family dinner so Prompto doesn’t expect to see him at all.

All Prompto can really work out is that something happened and Noct’s not in the same place as his phone - but _is_ with Ignis and Gladio so _that’s_ good at least - and that Prompto shouldn’t respond to this number _or_ expect to be contacted for a few days. When he does a quick search online for breaking Citadel news, or anything regarding Noct at all, he gets absolutely nothing.

Instinct tells him to call Gladio and he even goes so far as to dial his number and start the call before a second wave of instinct kicks in and he immediately ends it before more than one ring sounds in his ear. If something's happened, if Noct’s in danger like Prompto suspects he might be, then distracting Gladio is an _awful_ thing to do.

No matter how worried Prompto might be - a lot, he’s worried _a lot_.

Not to mention that might put _him_ in danger, draw a big target on Prompto’s back.

Though that really feels like a secondary issue right now.

Whatever is going on is serious enough for Noct to send him a weirdly coded message off an unknown phone

Prompto doesn’t usually like to watch the news because it usually just bums him out but he sticks it on in the background while he tries to focus in on his project. Hoping for something to illuminate the situation at hand.

It’s not until eight o’clock that this gets him anywhere.

Prompto’s pretty on the edge at that point, having successfully forced down some leftover pasta for dinner but unable to keep his thoughts from spiralling for more than a few minutes at a time.

They could be _dead_. All of them could be dead or hurt or kidnapped and Prompto won’t know because there’s no one around that would think he’s worth telling.

Prompto forces himself to imagine Noct's voice in his ear, talking him through slow even breaths.

The news anchor calls it _breaking news_ but they don’t actually know anything of substance. The Citadel is on lock down. Nobody in, nobody out. The Crown has yet to make an official statement. The King is known to be inside but the whereabouts of their _wayward_ Prince is unknown.

They actually use the word wayward too, like Noct’s nothing more than a mischievous just out of his teens layabout.

Prompto has to force himself through the breathing exercise three times before he just gives in and clears his work away. Looks like his weekend just blew wide open anyway.

Prompto doesn’t really get any sleep but he does manage to stave off a full on panic attack so there’s that.

\- - -

When no additional news is forthcoming by eleven on Saturday Prompto gives Eli a call as he’s walking to Sakana’s for a full shift.

“ _What's up, kid_?” Eli says by way of greeting. It’s noisy in the background so Prompto thinks he’s probably at work. Saturdays are always busy, tonnes of walk ins and what not; it’s part of the reason Malcolm hadn’t wanted Prompto working that day.

“Hey - you been watching the news?”

Eli makes a surprised noise and then after a few seconds the noise cuts out, “ _You okay_?”

“Something's going on at the Citadel, with the Prince or the King or something,” Prompto explains even though he has pretty much zero information.

“ _I saw something about that_ ,” Eli admits.

“Gladio’s Noct’s Shield, so…” Prompto trails off.

“ _Not going to be here tomorrow, huh?_ ” Eli works out.

Prompto shakes his head then remembers Eli can’t see him, “I think it’s a long shot. Like, the longest of shots.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Eli says, “ _Well we’ll use that time for training okay, I won’t cancel Gladio’s appointment just in case and if he doesn’t turn up we’ll do something worthwhile with it, yeah_?”

Prompto breathes deep and lets it out slowly, “Thanks.”

“ _No worries, Freckles_ ,” Eli says, voice oddly gentle, “ _Thanks for the heads up._ ”

-

At about eight o’clock news _actually_ breaks that the extended lock down is thought to be because of an assassination attempt.

King or Prince. No one knows.

At quarter past Eli calls back just as Prompto’s scraping his half eaten sushi roll into the trash at work. Being on break _sucks_ right now. He just wants to be busy.

“ _You okay?_ ” Eli asks.

Prompto swallows.

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know,” Prompto says.

“ _He’s gonna be okay_ ,” Eli soothes him, “ _Gladio’s tough. I know it must be scary for someone you love to be in a position like that but if anyone can get through it it’s Gladio._ ”

Prompto blinks. He’s a little soothed by the words because yeah Gladio _is_ tough, the toughest person Prompto’s _ever_ met but -

 _Someone you love_.

Eli says it so easily, so simply, that the idea Prompto is in love with Gladio is just common sense. No big deal.

Prompto’s not even sure he knows what love _is_.

Prompto certainly doesn’t think anyone has ever loved _him_. Knows no one has never said it to him wither way.

“ _Kid_?” Eli nudges making Prompto realise he’s been silent for a while.

“Sorry,” Prompto blurts, “I’m just -”

“ _Worried. I know_ ,” Eli says, “ _You want tomorrow off_?”

“No,” Prompto says immediately, “Work is the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

Eli laughs softly, “ _Okay. Well, I’ll be in the shop early so just head down as soon as you’re ready_.”

“Thanks.”

“ _No worries. See you tomorrow, kid,_ ” Eli tells him.

“Eli,” Prompto says before he can hang up.

“ _Hmm_?”

“I mean it. Thank you.”

\- - -

Prompto’s walking to school Monday morning when his phone _finally_ rings with one of his friends’ names flashing across the screen.

“Noct?” he says tentatively.

“ _Hey, bud_ ,” Noct says sounding tired.

The relief is so palpable it almost knocks Prompto’s knees out and he has to sink onto a low wall he’s walking past so as not to fall over.

“Thank fucking Shiva,” Prompto mutters.

Noct laughs, “ _Tell me about it. Sorry for the radio silence. Did you get my message_?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “Took me a while but I even understood it I think.”

“ _Good_ ,” Noct sighs, “ _So look, every body is_ fine _okay. Completely fine_.”

The way Noct says it makes it sound _very much_ like everyone is not fine.

“What happened?” Prompto asks quickly.

“ _Gladio’s fine_ ,” Noct assures him, “ _I’m fine, Iggy is fine. Nyx is fine._ But _\- and I’ll explain all the details I'm allowed when I see you - but in the course of everything that happened Clarus and Dad got hurt._ ”

“Shit,” Prompto hisses, “Are they -”

“ _Fine, fine. Nothing major in the grand scheme of things but they need to rest and neither of them are happy about it_ ,” Noct says managing to be able to sound genuinely amused for a second.

“ _So Gladio’s going to call or text or something later once he’s bullied his Dad onto bed rest, but we’re both going to stay here for today,_ ” Noct says.

“Okay,” Prompto breathes, “You’re really okay?”

Noct hums, “ _I wasn’t even in the Citadel. But like I said, I’ll tell you everything when I’m back at school tomorrow_.”

“Right,” Prompto says.

“ _I just wanted to let you know we were okay, and if you don’t hear from Gladio right away its nothing to worry about_ ,” Noct assures him, “ _He asked me to tell you he missed you and some other mushy shit I refuse to say out loud.”_

Prompto laugh is wonderfully clear and relishes the ease with which he takes a few nice deep breaths.

“ _Dude_ ,” Noct says, “ _You’re going to be late for class_.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Prompto say jumping to his feet - he’s still five minutes from campus, “I’m glad you’re okay. Be safe. Text me. Bye, bye, bye.”

Noct’s chucking even as Prompto ends the call and starts running for school.

\- - -

“Come back to mine -”

“I have gaming dibs,” Noct cuts in.

“- after we’re done at Noct’s?” Gladio finishes, taking a hand off the wheel to flip Noct off.

“I need school stuff,” Prompto says, “But yes. Please.”

Gladio gives a low laugh and transfers his hand to Prompto’s thigh for a quick squeeze.

“We’ll drop by yours on the way back to Noct’s later - you have a class after lunch, yeah?”

It’s sort of incredibly nice that Gladio just seems to know Prompto’s class schedule now.

“Get out the same time as Noct,” Prompto confirms because Gladio surely does know Noct’s schedule off pat.

“Iggy couldn’t make it for lunch?” Noct asks from the back seat.

“Couldn’t get away,” Gladio confirms, “Council pretty much fell apart at the idea of letting him go for an hour.”

“Pussies,” Noct says and Gladio laughs seemingly despite himself.

The drive from campus to _Forresters_ is so short that Prompto’s barely registered they’re on the road when Gladio’s reversing his car into an empty spot right outside.

The smell hits Prompto so hard he actually stumbles back into Noct as they’re walking through the doors.

“You okay, dude?” Noct asks laughing.

Prompto’s starving. Actually ravenous.

Despite knowing they were okay for all of yesterday Prompto’s appetite had still been a bit iffy, maybe just all out of sorts from how little he’d been managing to get down since Thursday afternoon.

“Haven’t had a decent burger in _ages_ ,” Prompto says instead of explaining any of that to Noct.

Noct specifically requests a booth from the server and then sits himself directly in the middle on one side so Prompto and Gladio can sit together. Prompto slides in first, next to the wall but then scoots back over once Gladio’s settles so they’re sitting kind of obnoxiously close together.

Noct raises one hand and just in front of him and says, “Just this once. One time. You guys are allowed to be all gross and stuff and I won’t complain.”

Gladio rolls his eyes but he does put his arm up along the booth so it’s kind of around Prompto’s shoulders and turn to nose into Prompto's hair - a useless disarray today because of the wind.

“You look tired,” Gladio murmurs as he pulls away.

“Haven’t been sleeping well,” Prompto admits. Across the table Noct winces.

“Sorry,” Noct says, “There’s protocol and -”

“Don’t worry about it,” Prompto assures him quickly, cutting across his words, “I just care that you were all safe.”

“Still,” Noct says, “Must have been a lot. Did you - were you okay?”

Prompto _thinks_ Noct’s trying to ask how his anxiety fared over the last four days, in a roundabout kind of way. Gladio’s arm drops down from the bench to settle around his shoulders properly, giving him a nice squeeze.

“I was okay,” Prompto says quietly, “Managed.”

Noct frowns.

“So what actually happened?” Prompto asks, “Like, whatever isn’t classified.”

Noct glances at Gladio and makes a vague hand gesture.

“You better. I’ll just tell him _everything_.”

Gladio sighs, the kind tinged with frustration.

“I don’t _want_ to hide anything either,” Gladio grumbles and Prompto turns to give him a little smile, so he knows Prompto understands that he kind of _has_ to.

“There was a plot,” Gladio says slowly, “Someone from inside the military was trying to kill the king.”

Prompto’s eyes widen.

“ _Why_?” he breathes. As far as Prompto’s concerned King Regis can do no wrong - or rather has _done_ no wrongs. He’s largely responsible for the war ending and afterwards sent his finest soldiers to infiltrate the parts of Niflheim still suffering.

King Regis pretty much - in broad strokes - saved Prompto’s life.

“Blaming him for stuff my Grandfather did,” Noct mutters a little angrily, “Dad’s done nothing but _help_ Galahd -”

Noct cuts himself off abruptly, eyes almost comically wide like he thinks he’s said too much.

Prompto has more questions but the server arrives then and he has to scramble for the menu to remember what his burger is called and work out which side is best value for money while the others tell her what they want. He’s given an extra little bit of time when Gladio orders something for Ignis too, asking for it to be ready for them to take with them when they leave.

Galahd, Noct said. Galahd. The Kingsglaive.

The waitress looks at him expectantly.

“Um -”

“He wants that insane burger with six chillies next to it,” Noct says, “Sweet potato fries and onions rings.”

“Noct -” Prompto tries because he can’t _really_ afford the extravagance of _two_ sides no matter how hungry his is.

“I’m paying,” Noct says to him, then turns to the waitress before Prompto can argue, “Actually just make that enough onion rings for all of us.”

She laughs lightly and says, “Gotcha. Be right back with your drinks.”

Prompto never actually ordered one so he assumes that one of them had taken care of that for him too. Gladio pushes back Prompto’s hair and looks over his face a little critically.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” he blurts and Gladio is obviously unconvinced, “Nyx -”

“Is fine,” Gladio assures quickly, “Physically, but -”

“He’s devastated,” Noct puts in, “Betrayed by people he though he knew – people he thought were friends.”

“They forced him onto leave,” Gladio explains, “To 'process the events'.” Gladio sketches quotation marks into the air with one hand.

Prompto isn’t particularly close to Nyx - he likes him a lot but they haven’t spent _that_ much time together and almost none of it one on one - but he knows without being told that order won’t have gone down well.

Prompto winces and Noct nods, “Yeah. I’ve never heard him shout before - like outside sparring, y’know. I had to pull Iggy out of a meeting to help calm him down.”

“In the end he was given the choice between three weeks _paid_ leave or three months on gate duty,” Gladio says, “He took the fucking holiday of course.”

Their drinks arrive - Noct’s double stacking a coffee _and_ a soda so if Prompto didn’t already know how tired his friend is he would now - and Prompto greedily sucks down some lemonade through his straw.

“I wish I could make Iggy less busy,” Noct muses, “Then they could have a little break _together_ and Nyx might not feel like he’s being punished.”

Gladio just shakes his head a little sadly and Prompto feels that deep in his bones.

“Shit,” Gladio says but without any real alarm, “ _Insomnia Ink_ , I totally forgot. I should call Eli.”

“I did it,” Prompto tells him, “Warned Eli that you probably wouldn’t be there.”

“Thanks baby,” Gladio says, “Did he get another appointment?”

Prompto shakes his head, “He bought some, uh - stuff so I could practice with the needle.”

It was gross, gross, gross and Prompto doesn’t want to bring it up when they’re about to eat. Gladio wrinkles his nose briefly and Prompto remembers that Gladio _knows_ what comes after oranges.

“What stuff?”

“You don’t wanna know,” Prompto mumbles and Noct scowls a little but seems appeased.

Their food arrives shortly and Prompto’s ability to talk peters out in favour of filling his belly.

“Dude,” Noct says when he notices Prompto’s almost done with his burger and the Prince has barely eaten half his fries. Noct always goes fries first because a cold burger is just a sandwich but cold fries are soggy lumps of potato. Apparently.

Gladio’s looking at him a little askance too.

“You haven’t been eating have you?” Noct asks but also just _says_ because he knows he’s right.

Prompto shakes his head guiltily knowing there’s no use trying to pretend otherwise.

“My appetite was all messed up,” Prompto says.

“Told you,” Gladio mutters at Noct and then surprises Prompto by transferring a handful of his own fries onto Prompto’s plate.

“No wait -”

Noct interrupts by doing the same and Prompto flops back in his seat in defeat.

“You _guys_ ,” Prompto whines.

“We’ve been stuck in a house with an stress-baking Ignis for three days,” Gladio points out, “We could probably do with a reduction in calories.”

Prompto laughs and pulls himself upright again, leaning up against Gladio’s arm. Gladio turns to press a kiss to his forehead and Noct squints at them but, as promised, says nothing.

Prompto eats everything on his plate.

He really was _very_ hungry.

Though his jeans _are_ uncomfortably tight during his last class.

\- - -

Prompto stays at Gladio’s for the next three nights because his stupid rule doesn’t seem so important any more.

\- - -

 _Someone you love_ , Eli had said.

But isn’t it - it’s too soon? Isn’t it?

How is Prompto supposed to _know_?

Prompto types _how do you know you’re in love_ into a search engine on his laptop but all the results that ping back are forums and discussion boards manned by girls younger that Iris and Prompto back out as fast as he can.

He checks the _romantic comedy_ tab on _Moogleflix_ and is similarly disappointed it. Then tries some historical romance because Gladio seems particularly fond of them and gets _nothing_ of any help. Nothing at all.

He almost asks Noct but realises he might be just as lost as Prompto here.

At least Noct has parents that love him, friends and family. So Noct’s at least experienced _one_ type of love.

But still, Prompto keeps it to himself, thoughts adrift and confused whenever he doesn’t have something to focus on.

\- - -

[Noct 23:07] dude. im getting married

[Prompto 23:10] holy shit. congrats man.

[Prompto 23:10] you mean luna right? you okay?

[Noct 23:11] luna yeah. but not for a while yet. just

[Noct 23:12] official engagement. announcement soon

[Prompto 23:13] you def okay? want me to come over? will grab drinks and snacks?

[Noct 23:14] im good i promise. happy about it. luna is great - the best. and we have early classes tomorrow

[Noct 23:15] though please can i have a ticket for that to cash in at a later date

[Prompto 23:16] ill bring you your coupon tomorrow

-

Prompto does, in fact, draw Noct a cute little coupon for one _friend date_ and hands it to Noct the next morning in exchange for his coffee. Prompto doesn’t actually see Noct throw it away yet he’s still shocked - and touched - when he spies it tucked away in his wallet a few days later.

\- - -

Prompto’s scrolling through social media on his phone when a group of trending hash-tags catches his eye.

#gayprince #endoftheheir #prideprince

Prompto clicks on it and gets absorbed into an internet vacuum for a full half hour before he finds a link to a proper news article that explains why the heck people are talking about this.

Prompto knows Noct _isn’t_ gay so it’s not like he’s worried Noct came out to the world and not him.

He’s just confused as to why the morning after Noct told him he was getting married - to a _girl_ \- the world is suddenly wondering if he’s gay.

Prompto understand laws and legislation about as well as he understand biology but from what he can work out Noct’s somehow made it so he and Luna could adopt a kid and they’d still inherit the throne even though it’s always been a blood descendant before now.

[Prompto 09:22] [Image 17999.jpg]

[Prompto 09:23] (ㄒoㄒ) dude. how come you no tell me you gay? (ㄒoㄒ)

[Noct 09:26] i just snorted my orange juice all over phone. i hate you

[Prompto 09:27] you okay though? social media is crazy rn

[Noct 09:28] they always say shit. theyll get over it. i didnt do it for them

[Prompto 09:29] ???

[Noct 09:30] we legalised gay marriage like ten years ago but refused to like honour the children of those marriages? thats fucked up

[Noct 09:31] i dont want any kids my friends have to feel like theyre lesser just because you guys didnt give birth to them

[Prompto 09:32] you’re not worried about people thinking your gay?

[Noct 09:33] no

[Noct 09:33] (⊙_◎) ??? ヘ(´－｀;)ヘ

[Noct 09:34] why would i be?

[Prompto 09:34] because you’re not ???? so like you wouldn’t want people to think that

[Noct 09:35] but its not a bad thing so why does it matter?

[Noct 09:36] ah

[Noct 09:36] prom. niflheim sucks. people here don’t care. like, almost all people here don’t care

[Noct 09:37] iggy says the approval rating for the idea of a gay monarch is like 92% which is basically the same as my dad so

[Prompto 09:39] huh

[Prompto 09:40] noct may I please be a citizen of your fine country?

[Noct 09:41] you got it bud

\- - -

Biology _sucks._

And Prompto sucks at Biology.

Three marks. Three marks is all that separates Prompto from a _failing_ grade in one of his pre-requisite classes.

He should probably jump the gun and contact Ellen to find out what actually happens to his scholarship if he flunks out of the calss but he’s afraid of the answer so he doesn’t.

Maybe that’ll bite him in the ass later.

\- - -

[Noct 14:44] grab your shit nerd were going to the mall

[Prompto 14:45] ?

From outside his apartment a car horn blares and Prompto jumps up, slams his laptop closed and quickly throws on a pair of shoes as fast as he can. On the way out the door his shoves his wallet and keys into his pocket.

It’s Ignis’ car and as he approaches it Nyx slips out of the passenger seat.

“His Highness says you always sit up front,” Nyx says gesturing towards the open door.

Prompto only sits there so Iggy doesn’t feel like a chauffeur so he shakes his head and tells Nyx, “Back seat is fine for me.”

He settles in beside Noct and asks his best friend, “What’s with the urgent mall trip?”

“You need an ID photo,” Noct says.

Prompto looks at him blankly and then twists to look at Ignis’ face, profile illuminated by bright spring sun.

“Ignis, why are we going to the mall, please?”

Nyx laughs loudly and Iggy’s shoulders shake with his.

“Your clearance for the Citadel _finally_ came through but you’ll need a proper ID to let you inside the building,” Ignis explains.

Prompto’s mouth pops open, “No way!”

“Also the new _Justice Monster_ collectibles are out,” Noct says pointedly.

Ignis sighs. Nyx reaches over to put a hand on his knee.

“One,” Ignis says, “I refuse to dust more than one.”

Noct holds up a fist and Prompto bumps it.

\- - -

It’s been three days since his panic attack _in Gladio’s bed_ and Prompto’s still embarrassed about it.

Gladio had been nothing but sweet about it, staying up with Prompto until he’d finally fallen asleep part way into their second movie just after five o’clock in the morning. He’d handles the situation like a pro, like someone who’s obviously held a person together while their own brain tries to tear them apart.

He’s not treated Prompto any differently since, not acting wary or annoyed or _anything_.

Well, maybe Prompto’s getting more soft kisses and side hugs than normal but he already got a lot of them so it’s hard to tell.

Prompto’s got a therapy appointment tomorrow. With _Noct’s_ therapist.

That Citadel clearance really came through right on time.

Prompto shudders to think how much the appointment must be costing and he complains as much to Ignis who smartly reminded him that health care is free in Lucis - both physical and mental.

Noct flicks him on the forehead.

“I can _hear_ your brain dude,” Noct says, “Either stop it or form those thoughts into words please.”

“Hello pot,” Nyx deadpans from what Prompto considers to be _Gladio’s_ armchair, “I see you’ve met my good friend kettle.”

Prompto snorts and Nyx shoots him a quick wink. Nyx _does_ has a pretty good point.

“Don’t you have work to get to?” Noct snaps, “Oh, wait.”

Nyx glares at Noct and calls, “ _Babe_ , his royal whiney-ness is being mean to me.”

“I’m sure you deserved it,” Ignis calls back.

“Wow,” Nyx mouths, “Harsh.”

“Ha,” Noct crows victoriously. Then he turns back to Prompto, “Out with it.”

Prompto tries not to but his eyes dart to Nyx with a little unease. They’re closer now, the talk is easier, Nyx has been in the car every time Ignis has driven him somewhere for the past two and a half weeks and Prompto would go so far as to say their _friends_ now. But.

Maybe Nyx knows Prompto’s history, maybe he doesn’t. Prompto would like to exist in the happy little space he has where he can at least _pretend_ the only person that knows is Noct.

Nyx must notice his glance because he stands immediately.

“I’ll go see if Igs needs any help. You guys want a drink?”

“Soda,” Noct says at once. Prompto shakes his head.

“I’ll get you some water,” Nyx tells him.

When Nyx is clear of the room Noct turns to face Prompto properly, placing his hand on Prompto’s forearm, right above his wristband.

“Prom?”

“Am I lying to Gladio?” Prompto blurts.

Noct frowns, “Not that I know of.”

“By not telling him where I came from,” Prompto explains.

“I - no. I don’t think so,” Noct says, but he sounds a little unsure, “It’s not a lie, unless you told him something else.”

Prompto shakes his head, “But it’s not honest either.”

Noct shrugs.

“You don’t want him to know?” Noct asks, squeezing his arm softly.

“I don’t want anything to change,” Prompto admits.

“Dude,” Noct says, clearly shocked, “Gladio _loves_ you. Why would anything change?”

Prompto’s thrown by that word again. Love. He was so preoccupied with working out if _he_ was in love that he never stopped to consider if Gladio might be too.

Noct says it so simply. Like it’s a forgone conclusion. Just like Eli had.

“Buddy?” Noct presses, “Gladio’s not going to care I promise.”

Prompto nods. Maybe. Probably even. But also maybe not.

Prompto doesn’t know if he can risk that _maybe_ not. Not yet.

“The therapist is going to want to talk to me about it, isn’t she?” Prompto says.

And _that_ is the crux of his pre-therapy anxiety.

Prompto has talked about it to Noct somewhat - details vague and a little sugar coated - and when he was a kid he’d been prodded and questioned until he was out of breath and crying.

But as an adult.

He shoved most of those memories in a box and pushed them all the way to the back of his head until they’re easy to ignore, only bothering him in the dead of night. Prompto’s not relishing the idea of opening that box up. Especially not in the presence of another person.

“Only if you want to,” Noct says. He takes a deep breath, “I’m just gonna say this once, no pressure or pushing. Just an opinion. I really think you _should_ talk to her - someone - about all that stuff. But it’s up to you.”

“She already knows?” Prompto checks.

“She has your background check,” Noct confirms.

So Prompto wouldn’t have to _say it_ at least. That horrible hurdle is already cleared.

“Maybe,” Prompto agrees, “Maybe I will.”

“You’ll think about it?” Noct checks.

Prompto laughs, it’s a _little_ hollow. “Try and stop me.”

Noct pulls out their phones so they can be together without talking about anything important and when Nyx comes back with their drinks a few minutes later Prompto finds his throat is oddly dry and he’s thankful for the water.

\- - -

There’s no time to give Prompto a proper tour of the Citadel - at least not the tour _Noct_ wants to give him - before his appointment so Gladio picks him up from school and walks him into the elevator and all the way to the chairs outside his Doctor’s office. It’s nice to have a few moments with Gladio beforehand to be comforted and remember one of the things that makes potentially reliving his trauma worth it.

Doctor Greene is a pleasant enough lady with a face that’s so mild and unassuming Prompto is caught almost off guard.

It takes him a while to open up, to stop talking _around_ the subject of all the things that are bothering him and when he apologises she tells him not to - that it’s natural and she would have been surprised to find him any different.

His first appointment is ninety minutes long and at the end of it he’s tired and raw but one anxiety workbook richer. Prompto tucks it in his bag and when he promises to work on it he means it.

“We’ll make an appointment for two weeks time,” Dr Greene tells him kindly as she walks him to the door, “But if you’d like to see me sooner or have any question call me - or email if you find that easier. I tucked my card into your book but I’m sure His Highness will arrange anything necessary for you.”

Prompto nods and manages a smile, “Thanks so much.”

“I’ll see you very soon,” Dr Greene promises him and she pulls open the door, “Take care of yourself.”

Ignis is waiting for him in the chair Gladio had been in before his appointment, looking attentively towards the door. Ignis takes one look at Prompto then stands elegantly, opening his arms up and beckoning Prompto towards him.

Prompto steps gratefully into Ignis’ offered hug, dropping his back back onto the floor beside them while he stands in a random hallway of the Citadel being held by one of the most important people in Lucis.

“You’re probably all talked out,” Ignis says calmly stroking the back of Prompto’s head, “But you’ll let me know if you need anything.”

“Can I have a nap?” Prompto teases, voice muffled in Iggy’s suit jacket.

“It’s not a long drive over to Noct’s but by all means,” Ignis jokes back, patting his shoulder.

Prompto feels buoyed enough to carefully extract himself from Ignis’ hold.

“I better text the other two,” Prompto says fishing out his phone and Ignis nods in agreement.

Prompto gets two messages off to Gladio and one to Noct before he and Ignis are on the road. Where his phone battery promptly dies.

“Shit,” he mutters knowing Gladio’s probably just gone in to full worry mode.

“Are you alright?” Ignis asks, sounding just two steps away from _alarmed_.

“Yeah. Just - my phone died.”

“It’s not a long trip,” Ignis promises, “You could use mine but it’s in my briefcase in the trunk.”

“It’s okay. Like you said - not a long trip.”

Prompto is, as Ignis suggested, rather talked out so he rests his head against the car window and watches the city lights flash past.

Ignis just leaves him be.

Ignis is great.

-

The apartment smells of cooking pizza but Prompto's face is almost immediately buried in Gladio’s strong shoulder and he doesn’t get to smell it for long.

Gladio plops Prompto down on top of one of the counters, standing himself between Prompto’s thighs.

“I’m okay,” Prompto says for his and Noct’s benefit, despite having told them before.

Gladio drops a kiss onto his forehead, looking a little relieved. Until Noct elbows him sharply in the side. Gladio turns, looking angry and then Noct’s saying, “Gimme my best friend a sec.”

Gladio obliges, appeased and moves to stand with Ignis instead.

Noct steps right up to his side and wraps his arms around Prompto's shoulders.

So that’s three hugs in like half an hour. That’s _nice_.

Prompto’s a simple man, he likes hugs. He likes _affection_.

“How are you feeling - apart from tired?” Noct murmurs.

Prompto thinks about it for a second and then shrugs in Noct’s hold.

“I’m not really sure,” Prompto says, “Overwhelmed. I didn’t - I don’t think I’m very good at therapy.”

Noct laughs low and admits, “Me neither.”

“She gave me this book - and another appointment in two weeks,” Prompto tells him.

“Were you - did you feel able to talk to her about -”

Noct pulls away and very carefully wraps one hand around the wristband he’s gifted Prompto for his birthday. At first Prompto seizes up on reflex but slowly he settles, shoulders relaxing as he brain processes that it’s just _Noct_ and he’s _safe_.

“A bit,” Prompto says, “I talked a lot but I didn’t feel like I got anywhere.”

“It takes time,” Noct rushes to assure him, “And work. But we’re all here to help you, okay?”

Prompto mouth quirks up on one side, “I got it the first forty-six times you told me.”

Noct rolls his eyes, “Somehow I don’t think that’s actually true - but okay.”

Noct nods, seemingly satisfied, and removes his hand from Prompto’s arm.

“I’ll leave you to your dumb boyfriend now,” Noct says and he turns to join his adviser, peering into the oven and checking the status of their dinner.

Gladio joins him the second Prompto invites him back over, chaffing his hands up Prompto’s thighs on the way to wrap around his waist.

“You want to talk about it now?” Gladio asks, “Or later?”

Prompto knows that now means _now_ , with all of them all together but later can mean when they head back to Gladio’s for the night _or_ some indeterminable point in the future when Prompto’s ready.

Right now Prompto’s leaning towards the second option - if only because the really tough shit, the _bad_ shit is all the stuff that Prompto’s still keeping hidden from Gladio.

He tries not to squirm guiltily when he says, “Later. I’ve got a lot of stuff to think about.”

Gladio’s only reaction is to lean in a press a firm kiss to his mouth.

Prompto’s a bit upset at first when Gladio pulls back, moving to stand at his side rather than letting Prompto stay all wrapped up in his strong arms. Then he remembers that Noct and Iggy are still here and snuggling up on Noct’s kitchen counter probably falls under the category of _gross_ and _inappropriate_ respectively to each of them.

“Pizza smells good,” Prompto announces both because it’s true and to let the others know Prompto’s all done with needing complete privacy for now.

“ _Looks_ good too,” Ignis tells him but he sounds like the notion confuses him.

“ _Hey_!” Noct squawks, “I _know_ pizza. Okay. It’s not complicated like eggs and shit.”

Ignis sighs, “Sometimes I think I’ve truly failed you.”

\- - -

Gladio looks uncomfortable. Which immediately puts Prompto on edge.

“What’s up?” Prompto asks managing to keep his voice remarkably steady.

Gladio offers him a smile but it’s so obvious he’s _nervous_.

“I was hoping you’d bring it up first,” Gladio starts - Prompto’s heart pounds painfully against his ribs.

“I don’t want to pressure you, so whatever you say goes,” Gladio goes on, “Dad wants to come to my last tattoo appointment - or one of the last ones because Eli says he can’t be sure -”

Prompto nods, he was there when they were discussed how many more appointments Gladio might need. Not many was the answer. Prompto’s more than a little sad about it. Maybe he can convince Gladio he needs something extravagant on each leg too.

“But, if you’re not ready to meet my Dad then we’ll work something out,” Gladio finishes.

“I’m ready,” Prompto blurts. He’s been waiting for Gladio to ask, hearing via Noct that Clarus has been pestering him about it and trying to to worry that the crux of the matter is that _Gladio_ doesn’t want them all to know each other.

Apparently they’ve both just been waiting for the other to ask.

“Well,” Prompto amends, “I think _we’re_ ready, at least.”

Gladio smiles again then, his proper smile, full of warmth and affection.

“I think so too,” Gladio agrees giving him a little kiss, “But if you’d rather not do it at work then me and Dad will come in a day you’re not there and you can just come to family dinner -”

“No way,” Prompto argues, “I wanna see every drop of ink added to that tattoo.” Prompto’s not had anything _important_ to do with the process but he’s been in the shop for most of it, he certainly doesn’t want to miss these last bits that really pull the whole thing together and make it what is is.

“Plus I work Thursdays,” Prompto reminds him. It’s been handy, really, to both be busy at the same time - means they’re less likely to have schedules that clash else when. Though that does happen. Too often.

“We’d move family dinner day for you,” Gladio says and Prompto’s startled to realise Gladio really _means_ that.

“I wouldn’t want to get in the way of Iris’ dancing,” Prompto teases to cover up how emotional he feels. It might work or it might not - either way Gladio tumbles them down sideways on the couch in a tangle of limbs.

\- - -

Noct understood energy transfers the moment the Professor mentioned them. Prompto - not so much.

“Here,” Noct says, clearly spotting Prompto’s struggle and shifting his stool closer to Prompto’s so they can lean over the textbook together.

“Noctis,” Ignis suddenly calls, emerging from Noct’s small office from where he’d gone to take a phone call. His voice is just a _little_ sharp. He approaches them at the breakfast bar where they’d set up for the afternoon to study. Easy distance to snacks and soda.

“I’m sorry but Nyx is coming to take you to the Citadel,” Ignis explains apologetically.

“What?” Noct says roughly, “ _Why_?”

“Your father called, you need to attend the preparatory meeting for the Four Nations Summit they just ordered,” Ignis tells him.

Noct groans and slides from his stool, when he’s on his feet he looks to his adviser and frowns.

“You’re not coming with me?” Noct asks, sounding a little vulnerable.

Iggy shakes his head, “Your father wants you to attend by yourself. To be seen standing by yourself.”

Noct huffs out a rough breath and mutters, “Which means a council member must have called my lazy. Or spoiled. _Again_.”

“They don’t _truly_ know you Noctis, please do not be disheartened,” Ignis tries to comfort him. Which is certainly something because Ignis must call Noct lazy at least twice a week.

Prompto starts to gather up his things.

“What are you doing?” Noct asks him.

Prompto squints at him, “Well I figured if _you_ were leaving your apartment it was time for me to leave it too.”

Noct rolls his eyes and punches him lightly in the shoulder.

“You’re so weird,” Noct tells him cheerfully as he moves away to his room.

“Noctis won’t be long,” Ignis says to him, “I rather thought you might stay and I could teach you how to make pasta. From scratch.”

“I - you’re sure you don’t mind?” Prompto stumbles out.

Ignis laughs, “Of course not.”

From his bedroom Noct yells, “Do I need to wear my raiment or -?”

“Just a suit is fine,” Ignis calls back, “Something fairly plain will do.”

Prompto turns back to his textbook though he has very little hope of getting it down without Noct’s help. He should at least _try_.

The front door opens.

“Hey guys,” Nyx calls.

“Hello Darling,” Ignis greets him, “Noct won’t be ready for a few minutes yet, I’m afraid.”

“Damn,” Nyx teases, emerging from the entry way, “Guess I’ll just have to spend some time with you while we wait."

“Charmer,” Ignis chides softly though he’s still clearly holding onto a lot of tension still. Prompto’s pretty sure he’s not used to sending Noct off to the Citadel to fend for himself. Ignis retreats back to the far end of the kitchen and Nyx follows him stopping just to ruffle Prompto’s hair and drop him a wink on the way.

Nyx slides right up to Ignis’ side, leaning against the counter and resting one hand on the small of his back. They talk softly to one another and Prompto could probably strain his ears to hear what they’re saying but he doesn’t.

Prompto doesn’t know a lot about love. Obviously.

He thinks he might be in it and he adores the _idea_ of it.

But he doesn’t know much.

Except that he’s looking at it right now.

Ignis shuffles a little closer into Nyx’s hold, lets the ‘Glaive hook his chin onto his shoulder while they talk. Ignis can be quite stern and you don’t uncover his warmth until you really get to know him but around Nyx all his edges are soft, his posture - still perfect - but less rigid and even his voice is different, a gentler cadence. Nyx is always bright and loud and Prompto doesn’t know what he’s like without Ignis around but Prompto assumes Ignis brings out the best parts of him too.

Nyx says something and Ignis laughs loudly, raising up one hand to cover his mouth. Nyx looks on with almost literal hearts in his eyes.

Prompto wonders how they got together. Nyx is not _in_ significantly older than Ignis - more than twice the age gap between Prompto and Gladio - and he knows they’ve been together for a couple years already. He wonders what made straight-laced twenty year old Ignis start dating a man six or seven years his senior.

He wonders how Ignis knew he was in love with him.

Ignis comes back to the counter where Prompto’s working, a bowl of flour in one hand a carton of eggs in the other. Nyx trails after him with a finger hooked through one of his belt loops.

“Stay for dinner when you bring Noct back,” Ignis tells Nyx.

“Mhm,” Nyx murmurs, “Whatever you want.”

Ignis smirks.

Noct’s bedroom door swings open and Ignis tenses up again. Nyx steps up a little closer to his boyfriend and runs his hand across his shoulders.

“Lets get this over with,” Noct says and Prompto turns to watch him tug at his shirt collar, already uncomfortable. To his adviser he asks, “Will I do?”

Ignis half laughs, “More than.”

“Be here when I get back,” Noct demands of Prompto.

Prompto offers him a salute.

“Don’t let them bully you,” Ignis says to Noct, voice oddly rushed, “You’ve read all the reports, you know what’s happening, I know you have opinions and they’re strong and valid -”

“ _Iggy_ ,” Noct says, “I got it, okay. Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

Noct turns towards the front door to get his shoes on, leaving Ignis behind before he can start talking again.

Ignis sighs. It sounds kind of painful.

“Hey,” Nyx says, whisper quiet, “You’re amazing at your job. He’s gonna do great.”

Ignis sighs again, but this one is better, softer.

“Yes. Thank you, dear.”

Nyx smiles and leans forward to kiss Ignis’ cheek.

“One more thing,” Nyx says.

“Hmm?”

“I love you,” Nyx says plainly. Easily.

Ignis softens, his rigid shoulders dropping like they’ve been cut from strings. He smiles.

“I love you too,” Ignis says back reaching to put a hand on Nyx’s jaw and leaning forward. Before they kiss, however, Ignis glances at Prompto from the corner of his eye, who laughs in surprise and playfully turns in his seat so his back is to them.

A few long seconds pass and then Nyx says, “See you later, Blondie.”

“Bye,” Prompto calls back twisting round on his stool again.

“Thank you for your forbearance,” Ignis teases, stepping up to the sink to wash his hands.

Prompto smiles at him and then attempts to focus back on his textbook.

But -

Nyx had said it so easily. Ignis’ response, too, had been automatic, no forethought or internal debate before he had just simply said -

 _I love you, too_.

Why is this so difficult for Prompto? Why can’t he just _know?_ He thinks he might love Gladio. Thinks the squirmy feeling in his gut when they text and the feeling of safety that comes over him when they nestle together on the couch might been he’s in love. Thinks the fact that he can’t get enough of either Gladio’s mind or his body after this long means he’s in love.

But he doesn’t know.

And it terrifies him.

“Are you quite alright?” Ignis says, “I can try and pull together some different material to explain it in a different way -"

“How did you know you were in love with Nyx?” Prompto blurts. It comes out almost as one word.

Ignis won’t make fun of him. Ignis won’t tell him he’s an idiot or _broken_ for not knowing.

Ignis blinks. Twice. Then adjusts his glasses.

“Well, that’s rather complicated,” Ignis says carefully.

“It is?” Prompto says and Ignis looks surprised all over again at the relief in his tone.

“For me the realisation that I _missed_ him came hand in hand with the one that I’d fallen rather hopelessly in love with the reckless fool.”

It’s Prompto’s turn to blink in confusion.

“But that's not - it’s not the same. I miss Gladio all the time I just don’t know how to tell if -” Prompto blurts and then cuts himself off by biting his lip.

Ignis’ face pinches briefly before smoothing out again.

“There’s not a chart where you add up points I’m afraid,” Ignis tells him, “It really is just a matter of knowing.”

“But _how_?” Prompto whines.

“Well for me, like I said, it was the realisation that I missed him that set it all in motion. Prompto, let me assure that never in my adult life had I genuinely missed another human being before. So when I suddenly realised that it made me _sad_ , I suppose, when I would have to go long periods of time without seeing him it sort of all fell into place. Days with Nyx were better and ones without were worse.”

Prompto slumps in his seat, he really expected Ignis to have all the answers.

Prompto already misses Gladio, he’d missed Gladio before he and Gladio were even a thing.

“This is really bothering you,” Ignis murmurs.

“I just - everyone keeps saying. And I _think_ I do, but I’ve never been in love before. So.”

Prompto's never _been_ loved before.

“I promise there’s no rush,” Ignis says gently, “Gladio’s not going to leave you or pressure you if you don’t say it back -”

“He hasn’t - that isn’t the problem,” Prompto adds hastily.

Ignis frowns, “He _hasn’t_?”

Prompto groans and buries his face in his hands. He’s getting worked up, anxious over a thing that’s supposed to make him happy.

“I’m making this worse aren’t I?” Ignis muses.

“No,” Prompto promises, “This is all my dumb brain. Everyone else just knows.”

Ignis sighs, “Please don’t say things like that.”

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbles not meaning it even a little.

“Will you tell me why you _think_ you’re in love and I’ll tell you if that sounds reasonable?” Ignis suggests.

Slowly Prompto emerges from his hands.

“Well,” Prompto starts awkwardly, “Like I said. I miss him all the time.”

“Mhm,” Ignis says, “That’s a good start.”

“When we’re together I still get all,” Prompto flutters his hand around his abdomen and Ignis smiles, “But I also feel really safe. Like I know he’ll never let anything hurt me.”

“Also good. And rather true.”

Prompto manages a smile.

“I never want him to think poorly of me, not ever,” Prompto goes on. He scuffs his wristband against his jeans and Ignis’ eyes barely flicker towards the movement, “And I want his Dad to like me. And not just not-hate like, but like. Like like me as a person he thinks is worthy of his son even though I’m not.”

Iggy’s smile pulls wider.

“I just want him to be happy all the time and I know its selfish but I’d like some of that happiness to depend on me y’know because like some of mine depends on him, and how much we’re together and stuff. Like it is for all of you and I just am really scared that one day we won’t be together or he’ll get bored or -”

“Prompto,” Ignis interrupts sternly, “I’d now like you to tell me one reason why you think you’re not in love.”

Prompto opens his mouth but can think of nothing to say. He closes it again with an audible snap. His eyes suddenly feel wet.

“Oh,” Prompto murmurs, “Shit I - I really love him, don’t I?”

Ignis quickly steps around the breakfast bar to offer Prompto a quick reassuring hug. Ignis smooths back his bangs while Prompto wipes his eyes on his forearm.

“It sounds like it to me.”

\- - -

Prompto thought working out he was in love would be the easy part but now the words are just constantly there on the tip of his tongue threatening to spill out every time Gladio does something sweet or kind.

Which happens a lot. By the way.

It’s really only a matter of time before he blurts its out in a stupid way. He’s both desperate to get it over with and desperate not to say it at all.

Prompto doesn’t think he can tell Gladio he's in love with him until Gladio knows everything about him - about how he was made. What he was raised to be.

It wouldn’t be fair to put the words out in the world and - hopefully - have them returned, only to shatter everything apart when his past comes into the light.

Prompto has to tell him soon.

He doesn’t want to, but he has to.

He’s not sure how much longer his heart can take it.

\- - -

[Prompto 23:21] i really didn’t like lady graybeck but also i didn’t want her to die so i’m glad that didn’t actually happen

[Gladio 23:22] Holy shit you finally finished the book.

[Prompto 23:23] lord abbingdon being alive the whole time totally got me. i’ll admit.

[Prompto 23:24] glad he told her to do one though. now i know why you like kris silver so much.

[Gladio 23:25] No body, no confirmed kill.

[Gladio 23:26] I told you that guy was into dudes and you didn’t believe me.

[Prompto 23:27] in niflheim they uninstall our gaydars at sixteen so we can’t find each other

[Gladio 23:28] Wow. Just. Wow.

[Gladio 23:29] Please don’t ever change.

\- - -

Doctor Greene likes to make sure he’s settled with a glass of water in front of him before they really get into the appointment. The first time it had happened Prompto was a put off by it, eager just to be on with the appointment. But after about half an hour of talking back and forth about things that make him uncomfortable he’s glad about the easy access to water.

“I’m glad you’ve been finding your book useful,” Doctor Greene tells him warmly, “Now, have you any specific concerns at the moment? Anything been particularly bothering you?”

On reflex Prompto blurts, “No,” before he can think about it. Too used to _trying_ to not be a burden.

Doctor Greene tilts her head slightly, “You’re not obligated to talk to me about anything you don’t want to. Though I’d hope you’re at least starting to understand my intention is only to help you.”

Prompto offers her a slightly weak smile, “Sorry. I just meant - it’s nothing really important.”

“All your feelings and concerns are important, remember, no matter what anyone has told you previously.”

“Right,” Prompto says, knowing it’ll probably take _a while_ for that to sink in, “It is really kind of lame.”

“Try me,” she says.

“I can’t work out how to tell my boyfriend I’m in love with him -”

Doctor Greene buries a smile behind her hand and it makes Prompto feel better to see her doing something so human.

“- or even if I _should_ tell him,” Prompto finishes explaining.

“Well, as I’ve told you before I believe that feelings do no good kept to ourselves,” Doctor Greene reminds him, “I would like to talk to you about why you feel like you shouldn’t, however.”

\- - -

[Noct 21:49] dude. youre meeting clarus on sunday.

[Prompto 21:50] what? why didn’t anyone tell me?

[Noct 21:51] dude

[Noct 21:51] fuck you

[Noct 21:52] youre not funny

[Prompto 21:53] (^_-)v

[Prompto 21:53] on the contrary my dude i am hilarious

[Noct 21:54] i was gonna ask you if you were nervous but apparently not

[Prompto 21:55] man i am shitting myself you have no idea.

[Prompto 21:56] hes gonna be like why is my perfect son interested in this unskilled man-child and how do i get rid of him

[Noct 21:57] clarus is not going to think that. he spent 20mins in iggys office the other day just talking to him about that painting you gave him.

[Noct 21:58] say mean stuff about by best friend again and ill sic my shield on you

[Prompto 22:00] you don’t think i have anything to worry about?

[Noct 22:01] only if youre like really committed to this not having a father figure to dote on you thing you have going on

[Prompto 22:02] low key been trying to get rid of that thing almost my whole life

[Noct 22:03] if clarus doesnt work out you can borrow my dad

[Noct 22:03] or maybe iggy and nyx will just adopt you

[Prompto 22:04] i feel like i’d be really well fed but also by jeans would be ironed and one of my dads would playfully beat me up sometimes

[Noct 22:05] picture this though - nyx giving gladio the shovel talk

[Prompto 22:06] (⊙_◎)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might rename this AU to the one where everybody loves Prompto and he just doesn’t have the necessary life experiences to tell.  
> It never came up in Saturation but Noct was smart and used his engagement - that he wanted anyway - to get the inheritance bill passed because there was a little push back on it.  
> Note: I had fully intended to write Prompto’s panic attack properly in this version but my own anxiety is currently pretty awful and the attempt made me very uncomfortable and panicky so I had to step away from it. Maybe I’ll come back and fill it in when I’m feeling better but for now I just couldn’t manage. I hope you understand <3


	11. Rosie Amicitia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto gets brave and makes a series of decisions. Good Dad Clarus makes a come back and Rosie's finally found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Prompto briefly remembers some of the absolutely horrendous stuff that happened to him as a child. It is exceptionally brief though.
> 
> This is super long but I just couldn’t hold back Rosie any longer and I messed up my notes before and didn’t realise how much happened that would be important to Prompto in such a short space of time. It means we also skipped right over Gladio’s birthday, for pacing, but the situation isn’t any different from Prompto's POV I promise - just imagine him worrying about what to buy him for a bit.

It’s unusually hot during Prompto’s run. So hot, in fact, that he has to duck into a corner store to grab a bottle of water in fear of expiring. Which Prompto hates doing because Insomnia tap water is perfectly drinkable and bottles are _such_ a waste.

He slows to a walk at the end of the street, trying to give himself enough time to get his breathing under control before he stops inside.

There’s a rustling from the alleyway as he steps past and Prompto freezes.

When he turns to look a fluffy tan tail disappears between two large trash bins.

Prompto detours to investigate. He's powerless to resist.

He edges round one of the bins and the dog whimpers before ducking fully behind the other one. Prompto tries to encourage them out but they stay hidden, just one black tipped paw visible. He doesn’t dare edge closer or try to grab for them, the last thing he wants to do is startle them into lashing out or running off into the road.

“Come on, sweetie,” Prompto tries one last time, holding a hand out towards them. They don’t come out and Prompto sighs in defeat before standing.

Entering the store Prompto grabs the cheapest water they have and then wanders down one of the other aisles until he finds the dog food. He could buy a can, or one of the little sachets but what’s he going to do with it, just pour it on the ground? In the cabinet with prepared meats Prompto finds a not exorbitantly priced packet of plain daggerquill and buys it without thinking too hard about it.

The guy manning the register eyes him a little suspiciously as he puts his purchases on the counter, expression not clearing until Prompto’s pulling his bank card out from the zipped pocket of his running leggings.

Prompto never used to carry it with him and then Ignis had found out he’d be _stranded_ if anything happened to him and lectured him on the importance of being prepared until Prompto gave in.

Prompto peels back the wrapping from the daggerquill and places the little tray down on the ground as close to the dog as he dares, stepping back a respectful distance. If the dog refuses to come out and eat it Prompto doesn’t want to just leave it there, inviting other animals into this alley just off the main road.

Slowly they edge out and Prompto gets a look at a beautiful sleek face, one of their floppy ears tipped with black, one eye warm brown the other shockingly blue. Their fearful but eager expression makes Prompto’s heart turn over.

She - Prompto’s pretty sure they’re a she - belly crawls to the food eyeing him suspiciously and only when she’s got her nose pressed to the plastic and Prompto remains standing there without intervention does she push herself up onto her lean legs start eating.

She eats _fast_ which Prompto was expecting to be honest, licking up every scrap of daggerquill.

When she’s done she gives a sad little whine and Prompto crouches down again, uncapping his water bottle and pouring half into the little tray. She flinches back when Prompto leans forward and takes a solid ten seconds to approach again when he’s done, lapping up the water as eagerly as she did the food.

“That’s it,” Prompto encourages.

She’s got no visible collar but maybe she’s micro-chipped? Lucis has laws about that - she _should_ be micro-chipped.

When she’s done she looks up at Prompto and her tail gives tentative little wag.

Prompto slowly raises a hand - he just wants to pet her, see if she trusts him enough that he can get her somewhere safe - but she startles and bolts back behind the bins. When Prompto tries to approach she gives a low warning growl and he steps back quickly to give her space.

No matter how much he tries Prompto can’t get her out again and after _not long enough_ Prompto has to head off or risk missing school.

\- - -

Prompto runs every day that week, a bottle of water and some food tucked away in his little running backpack. On the morning he wakes up at Gladio’s he detours there on the way home from school, picking deli meat out of the short-dated sandwich he’d bought on campus and holding it out to her.

She takes it from his hand, nibbling right up to his fingertips and by Thursday morning she’ll even let him rub her head softly. He still can’t get her to go with him - she bolts every time he moves but it’s _something_.

Prompto calls the animal shelter but apparently when _they_ go to investigate two afternoons in a row she’s not there.

\- - -

Gladio’s stood with his back to his mirror, chest on full display for Prompto’s eager eyes and trying to look at the full length of his tattoo over his shoulder. Prompto’s trying not to laugh at him.

“I’m just saying it looks _great_ to me,” Gladio enthuses.

“It looks _amazing_ ,” Prompto agrees, “But its just a matter of the _tiny_ details. On their own they mean nothing but when you smush them all together -”

Prompto gestures wide with his hands and Gladio turns back to face him.

“I’m not complaining,” Gladio explains, “But maybe I won’t be able to tell the difference of all the extra stuff he draws in - excluding the fresh scabs and what not.”

“ _I_ will,” Prompto tells him and shuffles up onto his knees so he can crawl to the edge of the bed, “Here.”

Gladio takes almost no coaxing onto his stomach, head resting on his folded arms with as much of his tattoo visible as possible. Prompto quickly sheds his jeans so he can easily swing his thighs over Gladio without the restricting fabric, settling himself down on the firm swell of his ass. Very comfortable seat, Prompto recommends.

Prompto runs his fingertips lightly over the ink across Gladio’s shoulders and his boyfriend shifts restlessly beneath him, laughing under his breath.

On the back of his bicep is a feather, stunningly intricate as it is but without the extra shading that most of the other feathers around it have.

“So here,” Prompto says tapping it first with his finger then leaning forward to kiss it, “He’s _beautiful_ but he could be better.”

Gladio laughs again and Prompto walks his fingers up his arm to where there’s another patch where Eli will want to deepen the shadows. Prompto kisses it and then another patch of bare skin an inch or so to the left.

Prompto wanders Gladio’s entire back that way, fingers light and teasing, mouth eager and affectionate. Gladio often pampers _him_ but rarely lets Prompto return the favour and Prompto takes advantage of it now, peppering Gladio’s impressive form with soft kisses and reverent touches.

He mouths at the feather tips brushing the base of Gladio’s spine and rubs his hands firmly up his strong back, hoping it feels as nice for Gladio as it does against Prompto’s palms. Admittedly the feathers here are perfect but it was too much for Prompto to resist.

Gladio shifts restlessly again.

“Suppose I should check the front too,” Prompto murmurs, biting the inside of his cheek, “Can’t leave a job half done.”

Mostly Prompto wants to move things a long a _just_ a bit, his cock trapped and tenting the fabric of his tight boxers.

When Prompto shifts up onto his knees Gladio rolls over without prompting. Somehow he looks a little embarrassed by his own erection and it’s that expression that makes Prompto stifle a laugh into his hands as Gladio reaches into his own boxers to trap it down beneath the waistband. It leaves the head poking out the top looking damp and enticing and Prompto forces himself to look away from it and set his fingers to Gladio’s torso again.

The eagle’s head is perfect, imposing and strong, but Prompto runs his fingers tips over it anyway tracing the sharp curve of it’s beak and intelligent eye. Prompto traces a fingertip teasingly over Gladio’s nipple and he huffs beneath him, hands creeping up onto Prompto’s knees.

“Careful you,” Gladio warns but Prompto simply smiles, meeting Gladio’s intense gaze with what he hopes is a coy _who me?_ expression.

Gladio glances up at the ceiling briefly as Prompto starts moving again, like he’s praying for strength.

Gladio’s chest is pretty much there really, a little extra work around the feathers on his collarbone, a few details on the long feathers stretching down his forearms.

The tattoo is phenomenal, the body its on even more so.

Prompto peppers kisses across Gladio’s chest, fingers squeezing Gladio’s bicep appreciatively.

“You done?” Gladio gruffs out, voice pleasingly tight.

“No,” Prompto says petulantly even though he’s done with all his _work_ so to speak, and is now just exploring his boyfriend beneath him for fun.

Gladio huffs again and Prompto hides his smile in his broad chest.

Prompto kisses down the eagles beak again, then lower, pressing first his mouth to Gladio’s nipple and then, very gently, his teeth.

“Oof,” Prompto says then breaks into giggles, blinking up at Gladio where he now towers over Prompto, having rolled him succinctly onto his back beneath him. Prompto would complain about the interruption but his mouth is suddenly all filled up with Gladio’s tongue.

“You’re a menace,” Gladio says eventually pulling his mouth away.

Prompto smirks and stretches his arms above his head, arching his spine in a way he knows Gladio appreciates.

Gladio just shakes his head and dips down to mouth a cross Prompto’s collarbone, sucking a mark into the edge just below his shoulder.

Prompto expects to be ravaged but instead Gladio holds him just this side of tenderness and scatters kisses all across chest.

“What are you doing?” Prompto mumbles, gasping sharply when Gladio’s nose presses high on his ribs.

“Freckle hunting,” Gladio rumbles back, “They’re everywhere.”

Prompto kind of hates it but Gladio sounds awed, like he’s never seen anything so wonderful.

Gladio pushes Prompto’s arms up and over his head so the delicate skin of his underarms is available to Gladio’s wandering mouth. Prompto even has freckles there and Gladio kisses each and every one.

Impatiently Prompto arches up his hips, whining and pressing his cock right up against Gladio’s thigh.

Gladio chuckles, arms trailing back down to Prompto’s hips and pushing them back down.

Prompto pouts and glares up at the ceiling.

Gladio’s laugh deepens and he slips one hand underneath the fabric of Prompto’s boxers to fondly squeeze his ass.

“Alright, alright,” Gladio says pushing his hands further so Prompto’s underwear falls down his thighs.

Prompto grins in triumph, pulling his arms down again to wrap over Gladio’s shoulders, he tangles the fingers of one hand into Gladio’s hair. Gladio easily goes in the direction of Prompto’s tug, sealing their mouths together.

Everything just sort of happens after that. They know each other so well its only natural for Prompto to grab the lube as Gladio pushes one of Prompto’s thighs up to his chest before opening him up with his fingers. Prompto whines to hurry Gladio a long and he ends up rolled onto his belly so he can’t be _distracting_ while Gladio finishes up.

There’s a trail of kisses pressed from the small of his back to the sensitive patch behind his ear and then Gladio’s cock is pressing into him, hard and hot and intense as ever.

Gladio rides him kind of slow, thrusts a deep and satisfying tempo that fill him up and press against all the sensitive parts inside him. Until Prompto’s gasping and moaning into the soft comforter on Gladio’s bed, that is, the thrusts of his boyfriend behind him turning choppy as Prompto's moans change pitch.

Gladio stops just long enough to pull Prompto’s hips up off the bed and help him get his knees beneath him, opening up enough space for Prompto to follow through on Gladio’s rough suggestion to - “Fucking, _please_ , touch yourself.”

It’s one of those beautiful times where they come so close together it feels like it happens all at once, Prompto breaking a mere second before Gladio, biting into the bedspread as he’s filled to what feels like bursting.

Gladio’s still panting when he pulls free, giving Prompto’s hip a clumsy pat as he falls onto the bed next to him.

Prompto lets forth a tired little laugh at the dopey expression on Gladio’s face.

“Shut up,” Gladio gripes, “You really take it outta me.”

Prompto forces a pout and Gladio quickly adds, “Not that I have _any_ complaints about that.”

\- - -

[Prompto 19:31] all my clothes are trash

[Noct 19:32] objectively no

[Prompto 19:33] all my clothes are not meeting boyfriend’s father clothes

[Noct 19:34] okay. why arent you just wearing what you normally wear to work?

[Prompto 19:35] gladio’s dad will be there.

[Prompto 19:36] this seems hard for you to understand. should we really trust you to run a country one day?

[Noct 19:37] i mean no. but like clarus will like you in the clothes you normally wear. i don’t…????

[Noct 19:38] i don’t know how to fix this dude

-

[Prompto 19:36] iggy all my clothes are trash

[Iggy 19:40] That’s certainly untrue but if you’d like to borrow something to wear on Sunday come back to Noct’s on Friday and between us all we can work something out.

[Prompto 19:41] have you ever considered arranging a mutiny and stealing the throne from noct?

[Iggy 19:42] You know I’ve never quite found the time with everything else I have to do (⌐■_■)

-

[Noct 19:44] okay iggy just text to say i have to dig out my non black casual clothes so like i have one grey tshirt and a blue one with fish on it

[Prompto 19:45] i’ve never worn fish before

\- - -

Noct really does only have about four items of non black clothing. The two of which not previously mentioned both suffer from the same distressed _alternative_ look that all of Prompto’s clothes have.

Ignis arrives when Prompto’s face down on Noct’s couch – despondently moping about his future prospects - with a small cardboard box in his hands and Nyx trailing behind him.

Prompto had a particularly rough morning with the dog. He’d _thought_ he was going to be able to lead her away this time but then a noisy group of teenagers had walked past the opening to the alley, shouting and squealing and she’d bolted so far back behind the bins Prompto hadn’t even been able to see even her mismatched paws.

“You didn’t go out and buy shit did you?” Prompto says, hint of a complaint, as Ignis sets the box down on the coffee table.

“Not at all,” Ignis says, “I was hoping you could make use of an error Nyx made some time ago - and never bothered to fix.”

Ignis turns away to fix his boyfriend with a _look_ and when Nyx walks past to settle in the armchair he has a very obvious if metaphorical tail between his legs.

Noct comes forward to start going through the box while Prompto is still working himself upright.

“Oh cool,” Noct murmurs, “These are your size - well, _our_ size.”

He hands Prompto a pile of folded t-shirts - black, grey, white, navy - which Prompto realises are long sleeved the moment he unfolds the top one.

“Uh, why do you have these?” Prompto asks Nyx. He's just a _little_ suspicious.

“I hate shopping,” he complains, “So I decided to do it online. Ordered the wrong size.”

“And just never bothered to return them,” Ignis cuts in.

Nyx _looks_ chastened.

“Babe,” Nyx tries, “Happy accident now, yeah. Prom can have them.”

The nickname catches Prompto slightly off guard. Not that he doesn’t _like_ Nyx using the term of endearment just that he wasn’t expecting it. It’s with an almost physical jolt he realises they’re actually _friends_ now.

“Yes, well,” Ignis says expression softer, “Silver linings.”

Prompto didn’t really know what he was looking for in an outfit but one of these with the pair of jeans Noct had pulled out for him - still skinny but not _torn_ \- seems like just the right choice. Neat and inoffensive without looking like he's trying too hard. Prompto could have worn his nice sweater but he’d worn it for a date with Gladio and just -

It didn’t feel right.

“That works?” Noct checks.

“Uh,” Prompto hesitates, glancing at Nyx, “How much were they?”

Nyx shakes his head, “You’re doing me a favour getting them out of the apartment,” Nyx shifts forward conspiratorially, “Every time Iggy sees them he gets mad at me.”

Ignis huffs in a way Prompto recognises now as a suppressed laugh.

“Yeah but I -”

“I don’t remember how much they cost,” Nyx says, “Please just take them, dude.”

“I - but -”

“ _Prompto_ ,” Iggy and Noct sigh at the same time.

Prompto has to bury down the feeling of charity before it overwhelms him.

“Thank you,” Prompto tells Nyx earnestly, if maybe a little uneasily.

\- - -

Gladio shifted Prompto’s coffee table around again so they can watch TV comfortably from his bed. Gladio’s upright against the walls, pillows supporting his back and Prompto’s curled up on his side, head on Gladio’s thigh while the Big Guy reads. Occasionally Gladio strokes a hand over Prompto’s hair and it’s only his intermittent text conversation with Noct and a bubbling of nerves that prevents Prompto from dropping off to sleep.

[Prompto 23:04] i’m gonna tell gladio

[Noct 23:05] about gralea? the facility?

[Prompto 23:06] yeah.

[Noct 23:07] like. right now? or?

[Prompto 23:08] （ ´∀｀）

[Prompto 23:08] after i meet his dad? i can’t handle both at the same time. if i get through that this wont seem so scary.

[Noct 23:09] dude you got this. im proud of you

[Prompto 23:12] its gonna be okay, right?

[Noct 23:13] of course it is

\- - -

Prompto snatches the blue roll off the shelf, knowing Eli doesn’t really _need_ it but knowing he can’t go back without it now. He cradles it against his chest, almost _hugging_ it as he wills his breathing back to normal.

It’s not too bad, just a spike of worry and anxiety that strangers might just mistake for normal _meeting the parents_ nerves. Those are certainly there but Mr Amicitia - _Clarus_ \- has the exact same warm smile as his son even though they look remarkably different no matter what Noct says. Prompto’s not quite as nervous as he’d thought he’d be now that smiles been sent his way a few times.

Somehow it hadn’t even occurred to Prompto that Gladio’s _dad_ might know where he was born. And he couldn’t in this very moment work out if it was exactly the sort of information the King’s Shield needs to know or if Prompto is just way below his pay grade. Dumb dumb _dumb_ that Prompto is more put off his game by one measly mention of him and tattoos than he was when Clarus had asked to see his sketchbook.

It’s already been longer than it needs to be when Prompto exits the storage cupboard with the roll of blue paper towels tucked up under his arm. No one mentions it.

“Everybody else alright?” Prompto asks once he’s tucked it right alongside the other one on Eli’s bottom shelf.

“All good babe, thanks,” Gladio says.

Clarus smile is so sincere Prompto feels guilty for being uncomfortable a minute ago.

“Do you play that game with Prince Noctis?” Clarus asks him.

Prompto nods, “All the time -” Prompto panics a little “- not _all_ the time. Like it doesn’t affects school, or -”

Clarus laughs - it sounds a little like Gladio’s.

“He’s been trying to get his father to play,” Clarus explains, “But I refuse and Regis says its not fun to play when Noct’s not there.”

Prompto laughs too, imagining King Regis with his phone under the table during council meetings with King’s Knight muted - a thing Prompto knows Noct does all the damn time.

-

“Iris is looking forward to seeing you again,” Clarus tells him as he takes the glass of water from Prompto’s hand.

“It’ll be nice to get to know her better,” Prompto says honestly. She’s very important to Gladio so she’s important to Prompto - as is creating a proper bond with her, whatever form that takes.

“I apologise in advance if she’s a bit _much_ ,” Clarus says. Gladio chuckles and Prompto raises his eyebrows in question.

“She really is excited to see you,” Gladio says, “It’s all she’d talk about on Thursday.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint,” Prompto teases.

Gladio rolls his eyes and tries to swat at Prompto where he’s cleaning some stuff off the side. If his _hands_ are busy then everything else doesn’t seem so bad - holding a conversation doesn’t seem so difficult.

“Hardly think that’s possible,” Clarus tells him warmly.

-

The manor is _huge_.

Which Prompto should have been expecting because it’s a _manor_ and Gladio’s obviously old money wealthy.

But it was yet another thing that hadn’t been able to penetrate the thick layer of _meeting the parents_ worry he’d been carrying all week. That and the dog, who Prompto couldn’t go and see today but _should_ be alright for just one day. Right?

The front of the house is impeccably landscaped, long driveway winged by perfect green grass and attractive flowering shrubs. In the flower beds below the windows at the front of the house is a mixed arrangement of lilies, gladioli and irises. It’s beautiful and colourful and Prompto wonders of Gladio’s mother was called Lily.

Gladio leads him up the stone path leading from the parking bays to the front door, holding his hand, and then unlocks the imposing dark wood door one handed so Prompto manages not to feel too adrift and out of place.

As soon as the front door opens Prompto hears the pitter patter of fast moving feet and then Gladio’s drooping his hand and -

“Prompto!” Iris calls happily before she’s sliding along the polished wood flooring and colliding with Prompto’s chest. He’s slightly taken aback but her little arms are strong, squeezing him tight and Prompto returns the embrace, messing up the back of her hair playfully.

Gods that's nice.

“Hi Iris,” Gladio says at their side, tone purposefully neutral, “It’s great to see you.”

Clarus laughs from behind them as he closes the front door.

Iris steps out of Prompto’s hold to make a rude gesture at her brother before taking his hand in hers and starting to pull him deeper into the house.

Which, okay, but this really feels like the sort of house where you absolutely take your shoes off before walking on any carpets.

“Can you show me how to blend my watercolour pencils? They look all grainy,” Iris all but begs, giving his hand an impatient tug when Prompto’s not immediately moving.

“ _Iris_ ,” comes Gladio and Clarus’ voices from behind them.

“Prompto’s been at work all day,” Clarus tells his daughter, “Perhaps, if he feels like it, he can show you after dinner. But not before.”

In the face of Iris’ pout Prompto rushes to enthuse, “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” Gladio points out and Iris drops his hand. When Gladio beckons him over Prompto goes, unlacing his boots and stacking them beside Gladio’s shoes and letting his boyfriend slide his jacket off his shoulders.

A glance at Iris shows she’s still stood there looking disappointed so he promises, “After dinner. But my guess is you need to use more water.”

“Really?” Iris asks, wrinkling her nose, “But it makes the paper go all funny.”

Prompto nods because that’s exactly what happens when you don’t use paper designed to handle wet medium like that.

“It’s easier on certain paper stocks,” Prompto explains, “If you don’t have any I can give you some.” He so rarely uses it anyway.

Seemingly buoyed to her usually peppiness Iris claps her hands together twice in quick succession before turning and skipping away. Over her shoulder she calls, “Jared said dinner will be around thirty minutes.”

Clarus quickly steps out of his own shoes and says to Prompto, “I better go check she’s not got her things spread all over the dining table.”

He rolls his eyes with playful frustration and it makes Prompto smile.

Gladio’s hands find his face then, cupped gently around his cheeks and tilting his head back so Gladio can press three little kisses to Prompto’s mouth in rapid succession.

Prompto floods with relief. Gladio’s immediate reconnection of their bodies the moment they're alone means he hasn’t fucked this up, he didn’t do anything so monstrously stupid that Gladio decided to be done with him.

“Hi,” Gladio breathes against his mouth, eyes lit by a smile.

Prompto feels his mouth pull up in response, staring into Gladio’s face from beneath his lashes.

“Am I doing okay?” Prompto asks. Just to make absolutely one hundred percent sure.

Gladio’s almost frowning when he dips to brush the tip of his nose over Prompto’s and Prompto essentially swoons, almost falls right down on the floor dead.

“The old man loves you,” Gladio says simply.

There’s that word again. _Love_. Prompto knows its not meant the same here, Gladio’s dad doesn’t _actually_ feel that strongly about Prompto already.

“Yeah?” Prompto checks, smiling.

Gently Gladio says, “Sorry about earlier.”

Earlier being when Prompto had done a minor freak out at the mere mention of a tattoo on his body. Not as badly, however, as that time _Gladio_ had made a similar comment months back.

“It’s okay. It’s getting easier for me to talk about,” Prompto admits.

“You talking to Dr Greene about it?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods because absolutely he has been. Dr Greene is _really_ interested in unpacking Prompto’s childhood and it’s mostly been okay. Yeah, he now recollects some thing he hadn’t before - being held down under icy cold water to see how long he can hold his breath and the almost permanent oval bruise on his shoulder from learning to use a rifle far too large for his small body - but he’s also got someone there to talk him through how those things are _not okay_ and that pretty much everything taught to him in that place should be discounted and not inform his thoughts in any way.

It’s going to take a while but maybe, one day, it’ll be easy..

Now isn't the place to really open up though so Prompto teases, “Yeah, that whole patient confidentiality thing really helps me open up.”

Gladio tilts Prompto’s face up again for another kiss, longer and firmer, lingering until Prompto’s breath is a bit short.

Prompto flutters a few kisses along Gladio’s jaw and mumbles, “You know when you said ‘and we’ll have dinner at the manor after’ I somehow didn’t expect -”

“An actual manor?” Gladio laughs.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, pulling back to peer up into Gladio’s eyes again, “You’re like, super important and rich, huh?”

“Technically my _Dad_ is super important and rich,” Gladio says, obviously a touch uncomfortable, “But I guess by proxy me too - what’s the matter?”

Prompto’s face must be betraying his feelings without permission again.

“I just wish I had something more - that I bought more to the table,” Prompto admits a little sadly.

What can he possibly offer Gladio - any of these people - that he can’t just go out into the world and get for himself with a single snap of his fingers. Instead Gladio’s tied himself to Prompto in this way that might even make finding those things _harder_.

“You bring _plenty_ to the table,” Gladio assures him quickly, voice fervent, “You make me so happy.”

“That’s all I want,” Prompto says and it gets him another kiss.

“You gonna show me around?” Prompto asks after some more pleasant time has passed. Prompto takes a step further into the house but holds his hand out for Gladio to take and lead the way.

“Which wing do you want to start in?” Gladio asks.

Prompto freezes dead. Wings. This house has wings? What kind of rich person nonsense -

“Kidding,” Gladio says squeezing his hand, “It’s just a big house. Come on, we’ll start upstairs.” Gladio moves forward down the entrance hall, ducking off to the left and starting up a staircase.

“All the family rooms are this side, I can show you mine,” Gladio says, opening the third door down on the left side.

Prompto takes one look around and says, “What, do you like books or something?”

Gladio laughs from deep in his belly and scoops Prompto all the way off the floor so he can dig his fingers into Prompto’s ribs.

Most of the bookcases are empty now, just a few short stacks Gladio had left behind. The bed is still made up with a deep red comforter that Gladio’s father or house keeper – Jared Prompto remembers - must keep on there all the time _just in case_ Gladio wants to sleep over with no notice. The idea makes Prompto both happy and sad all at once.

“En suite that I used to share with Iris but she kicked up a fuss a couple years back and Dad remodelled so she had her own,” Gladio explains while Prompto wanders the room, edging close to the door in question.

“Wow,” Prompto murmurs. The shitty bathroom in his apartment is the only bathroom he’s ever had that’s truly _his_ so he absolutely can’t relate.

Gladio’s got a couple of tatty posters on the wall, a Crownsguard Insignia and a band that they both enjoy, but otherwise all the personality was removed when Gladio had moved out last year.

“You don’t like these ones?” Prompto asks, indicating the books he’d noticed before.

Gladio shrugs, “I left them for Iris thinking she might like them. But clearly not.”

“No dicks?” Prompto teases.

“No dicks.”

Gladio shows him a couple of guest rooms too but they’re much a muchness, warm but maybe a little bland, decorated with simple water colours and portraits in wooden frames.

They go back downstairs via a second staircase than puts them on the ground floor in a short hallway leading off into a huge living room that makes Prompto audibly gasp. Dead centre is a large fireplace but no television, instead a wide landscape hangs pride of place above it.

It's a beautiful home.

Prompto can't really explain how this place makes him feel.

Cosily full with little knick-knacks, signs of all the people that live here scattered about.

Iris' dance bag is discarded by one of the couches, a set of car keys resting on the coffee table.

It’s massive but still homey, despite all the space, and Prompto feels some of his unease wane when he realise that it feels familiar and safe somehow.

It feels like _Gladio_.

“It’s not _that_ fancy,” Gladio says, eyes on Prompto’s as they dart around the room trying to take everything in. It’s grand in the same way the Citadel is but the colours are brown and gold and red and inviting as a counterpoint to the Citadel’s sleek black lines.

Prompto shakes his head numbly then tries to explain his feelings.

“It’s so _warm_.”

“What do you mean?” Gladio asks quickly, sounding almost _panicked_ , “Are you too hot?”

“No,” Prompto says, laughing a little, “I mean, it’s really comfortable. I lived in some big places in Gralea, group homes, you know -” not a lie, not a lie, _not a lie_ \- “But they didn’t really feel like _homes_ at all.”

Gladio smiles at him, the edges just tinged with sadness that Prompto tries not to read as pity and drapes his arm across Prompto’s shoulders, leading him over towards the fireplace.

“My Mom painted this,” Gladio tells him, gesturing at the landscape.

Prompto blinks. He’d had no idea Gladio’s mother had been an artist - he’d never mentioned it. Prompto likes the piece, it’s bright and colourful, a little abstract overall but the foliage in the foreground is hyper-realistic and exquisitely detailed. Prompto wonders if more of her work my be dotted around the place. If he’d already seen some of it without knowing.

Iris seems to like art - maybe she inherited the interest from their mother.

“Wow,” Prompto breathes, “It’s amazing. She was really talented.”

Gladio shifts behind him, wrapping both his arms tight around Prompto’s torso and nuzzling into his hair.

“She would have really loved you,” Gladio murmurs softly.

Prompto’s throat feels oddly tight and he makes a strangled noise before managing to speak. Earnestly he tells Gladio, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her.”

“Me too,” Gladio sigh. Prompto raises a hand to squeeze Gladio’s bicep where it’s curling over his chest and Gladio kisses the side of his head.

“Hi!” Iris says brightly from a doorway.

Gladio loosens his hold enough for them to step round and face her. Iris is smiling so wide it dimples her cheeks.

“Dinner ready?” Gladio asks her.

“Pretty much,” Iris chirps, “Jared just wanted to double check there wasn’t anything Prompto didn’t like.”

“Oh, no - I’m good,” Prompto assures her, “Not fussy.”

She beams at him and half steps from the doorway before twisting back round and asking, “After dinner can we play a board game?”

“Sure,” Prompto agrees easily as Gladio groans, “ _Iris_.”

Iris shouts in triumph and skitters away shouting, “Too late, Gladio!”

Prompto laughs.

“Come on,” Gladio grumbles, “Jared’s an amazing cook - let’s say hi quick.”

They go through a large door into an impressive kitchen, dark stained wood cabinets and double wide oven. A kind faced older man greets Prompto warmly, washing his hands quickly so they can shake and have a brief but pleasant conversation. Prompto has to -iterates again that he’ll eat just about anything before Jared is truly convinces. Prompto offers help but Jared just waves him away with a broad smile, pointing out that at least this first time he should allow them to treat him like a guest.

After that Gladio leads him by the hand into a large dining room fitted out with a long table that, despite only having eight chair around it, could probably sit twelve if needed. Thankfully all the place settings are at one end and Clarus is hovering around the end of the table, filling water glasses from a pitcher.

“Did you want anything else to drink with dinner, Prompto?” Clarus asks as Gladio ushers him to the side of the table with two place settings, pulling out the chair closest to the end. Closest to Clarus.

That should be threatening probably but Clarus is still all easy smiles, even when Gladio drops another kiss on Prompto’s hair before taking his own seat.

“Water is fine,” Prompto assures him.

“We’ve got wine, if you want, or beer - though, forgive me you have school in the morning?”

Prompto shakes his head, “Technically yeah, but my professor is out sick for a few weeks so they switched the classes to online for a while. I can do it whenever.”

“I wish _my_ classes were online,” Iris mutters petulantly as she appears at the table, flopping into the seat across from Prompto dramatically.

“But then you wouldn’t get to see your friends,” Prompto reminds her, reaching for his glass to take a much needed sip of water.

Iris’ face creases in thought for a moment and then she says, “Huh.”

Jared comes through the door then carrying two plates and Gladio rises to intercept him and carry them over, Jared disappearing again. Gladio puts the food down in front of Prompto and his father before reclaiming his seat.

Prompto surveys the dish, what seems to be a slice of rich meat pie with creamy mash potatoes, green beans and peas.

“I believe Jared checked with Ignis for some things you might like,” Clarus says.

“It looks amazing,” Prompto says earnestly, “I’m sure it’s delicious.”

“Jared is a Gods send,” Clarus admits, “I would have had to raise these two on take-out if it weren’t for him.”

Prompto laughs as food is deposited in front of Gladio and Iris too, admitting, “I can’t really cook either - not very well anyway.”

“That’s not true,” Gladio argues picking up his fork and making Prompto feel comfortable enough to reach for his own. Prompto had been kind of worried they might pray to one of the Six before the meal - not because he’s adverse to religious practice but just because _he_ doesn’t believe in anything in particular.

Gladio hasn't ever indicated being spiritual in anyway either but Prompto had thought it might just be a _thing_ with these historically important families.

“I need to practice more,” Prompto gripes before taking his first bite.

It _is_ delicious, rich and meaty and flavourful. It’s similar but slightly different to Iggy’s meat pies, though cooked in a round dish and not individually. Not _worse_ , just different.

Insomnia continues to be a revelation in flavour for Prompto. In Niflheim everything was bland or spicy, overly processed and mushy textured. Flavours have long since stopped being overwhelming to Prompto but sometimes they still surprise him.

“This is amazing,” Prompto compliments Jared once he’s swallowed and the old man smiles graciously at him.

“Can I fetch anyone anything?” Jared asks. He seems to have been waiting for someone to say something before making his exit.

“No thank you, Jared. Exceptional as always,” Clarus tells him.

Jared nods a little bow and Iris and Gladio says their own _thanks_ as he steps out of the room.

For a moment silence reigns while they eat and Prompto waits for it to feel awkward but it never quite does.

Clarus asks him more about school and Gladio teases Iris for picking at her green beans. Iris diverts attention by asking Prompto about his camera and she expresses such genuine interest in it that he feels bad for leaving it behind. When he promises to bring it next time she makes him agree to that being _soon_.

“You’re more than welcome any time,” Clarus says to him, refilling his water glass.

And well.

Prompto thinks that went okay.

\- - -

He’d fallen asleep face down on Gladio’s chest so its somewhat disorientating to wake up on his back and completely alone. When he focuses though, waking up fully, he can hear the sound of Gladio puttering around in the kitchen and the flicker of worry he’d had at first waking dies.

Prompto has to work on

It’s a bit of a scramble to find his phone, discarded amongst the pillows when he’d fallen asleep last night. Prompto thumbs open his message with Noct from last night, squinting to read without his glasses.

[Noct 23:04] told you it would be fine

[Prompto 23:05] more than fine. they’re really great, iris is sweet, clarus was so kind.

[Noct 23:06] that other thing is gonna be a cake walk too

Other thing.

Prompto rolls himself up into a sitting position and fingers the edge of his wristband. It’s not exactly _fun_ to sleep in, warm and bulky, and if Prompto gets too hot over night the dried sweat makes it itch something chronic come morning.

Cake walk, Noct thinks. The prince is absolutely certain this won’t matter to Gladio and Prompto wants wants _wants_ not to have any more secrets.

He’d learnt so much about Gladio last night too - his grandmother on his mother’s side is from Galahd, he lost all four of his front teeth at once when he was six and he grew four inches in as many months when he was thirteen.

Clarus said the worst part was the shoes - every inch a new shoe size.

Prompto unsnaps the band and puts it decisively on the bedside table next to Gladio’s phone and a paperback he’s been steadily working through. He has to take three steady breaths before he can stand from the bed and a few more before he can work his way over to where his jeans had been tossed the night before.

Carefully he pulls them on then retrieves his glasses from his backpack, pushing them securely up his nose. Sure he’d feel more confident in his contacts but that’s just more time he has to chicken out, to run back to his wristband and slap it on to never take it off again. He leaves Gladio’s over sized t-shirt on though because that’s a comfort he definitely needs.

Steeling himself he opens the bedroom door and steps out.

Prompto isn’t really conscious of putting his hand over his wrist as he approaches the other end of the apartment, not until Gladio’s looking up to greet him and his eyes flicker down to it.

“Morning,” Prompto manages shakily, trying to smile and being mostly successful.

Gladio smiles back, fiddling with some stuff in the kitchen before stepping around the breakfast bar and heading for the couch. He looks up at Prompto with an earnest, open face, patting the spot next to him.

It’s an inviting idea, being close to Gladio while he tells him. Just on the off chance he won’t get to be close to him at all afterwards.

Prompto sits down close enough he can feel the warmth of Gladio’s thigh even though they’re not _touching_ , knocking their knees together softly.

Part of him hopes Gladio will speak, will _ask_ , but he doesn’t - just reaches over to touch Prompto’s knee, hand secure and strong, before offering his other hand palm up for Prompto to take.

Prompto’s shaking as he lifts his hand free from his wrist, placing it into Gladio’s and letting his boyfriend interlock their fingers. Gladio doesn’t look down, doesn’t try to get a peek and start guessing, he just holds Prompto’s gaze, amber eyes free of judgement.

His swallow is painfully loud and he licks across his dry mouth, not sure where to start.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Gladio promises and Prompto flexes his fingers to try and show how grateful he is for that.

“I want to,” Prompto manages to choke out. He _hates_ that his voice is already wet and thinks it a small mercy that wetness isn’t running down his cheeks yet, “I don’t want to keep anything from you - you deserve to know.”

“Whatever it is,” Gladio says quickly, “It doesn’t matter, it won’t change anything.” Now Gladio squeezes Prompto’s hand.

“You say that now,” Prompto mumbles sadly.

Gladio doesn’t drop his eyes from Prompto’s face but he does cradle the hand not-attached to his heinous tattoo and bring it up to kiss across his knuckles.

Prompto’s exhale is a wet shudder. He raises his trembling hand and slides it over Gladio’s so his barcode is facing up on full display.

Gladio holds his gaze for one solid second and then glances down.

The recognition isn’t instantaneous. He watches as a frown notches itself between Gladio’s eyebrows as his gaze flits across the mark until his face clears, quickly replaced with sorrow.

Prompto _hates_ that. It smacks too close to pity.

“Oh Prom,” Gladio murmurs sadly and Prompto knows he knows what it means.

Prompto swallows and tries to calm himself yet somehow it still comes out abruptly. Like Prompto can’t wait to be rid of the words.

“I was born in the facility.”

Gladio’s frown is back again, “What?”

So Prompto also knows that Gladio knows some details. That the kids in the facility were all orphaned, or taken from places where people might not care enough to notice them going missing.

All except Prompto.

“A lot of them - us - managed to get reunited with families and stuff. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings maybe, depending on where and how they’d been found,” Prompto explains because babbling has always been easier for him than organising his thoughts, “For all their faults, and there’s a lot of them, the facilities kept really good records - kept track of the genetics - so it was easy to match everyone up with their file and get them home, or as close to it as possible.”

One of those tears Prompto had been worried about finally slips over his bottom lashes, a burning hot trail over his cheek. Gladio reaches to brush it away and then cup Prompto’s face in his palm - Prompto leans eagerly into the extra point of contact.

“My file just listed a date of birth and the words ‘born in facility’,” Prompto carries on once he’s able, “And understandably no one wanted to take me in so I bounced around in the Gralean foster care system until I was legally an adult.”

“That’s not understandable,” Gladio insists, “Not at all.”

Dr Greene keeps telling him as much too, but Prompto’s not got the head space to process it right now.

“They assigned my last name from an old registry of families that had dies out decades ago - and one of the people, the soldiers, that rescued us gave me my name.”

She was a nice woman, Prompto remembers, her colleague stern but kind in his own way. She’d thrown the name out for both Prompto and him to test and the soldier had shrugged - _as good as any_ , he’d said - with Prompto latching onto it ridiculously fast. Not really understanding what a _name_ was but understanding that these people were giving it to _him_.

Gladio tenderly strokes the back of Prompto’s wrist, feeling the stark lines and it makes Prompto’s breath catch in almost a gasp.

“It took me a long time to learn to respond to something that wasn’t an ID number.”

Gladio looks horrified and a shaky quality Prompto’s never heard works it’s way into his voice.

“Prom. Come here please,” Gladio breathes.

Prompto barely needs the tug Gladio gives him, just the invitation alone is enough to have him climbing up onto Gladio’s lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to anchor him to Eos and he tries to burrow himself in so tight he might as well be trying to literally get under his skin.

Gladio still wants him. Is still holding him. He’s not disgusted by Prompto or mad that he kept it a secret.

Gladio’s still _here_.

Gladio strokes his hair and chafes his hand up Prompto’s back. He hadn’t realised he was cold but he is, freezing all the way down inside.

Prompto knows there’s more to say, but isn’t sure where to start, what Gladio might want to know.

Gladio throws Prompto a line by asking, “How old were you when they rescued you all?”

It’s a fairly innocuous question, technically part of the public record and there’s a million other questions that Prompto _would_ answer despite it maybe hurting to do so.

“Eight - I was lucky,” Prompto admits.

Gladio almost scoffs, a surprised little laugh and it makes Prompto give a wet giggle.

“I was still young enough to learn new things,” Prompto explains, “To learn what had happened to me wasn’t normal. Some others, they weren’t so lucky, they never got to be normal again.”

“Wish you’d gotten out even sooner,” Gladio blurts, “Wish you’d never been there at all.”

Prompto raises his shoulders in a shrug. Admittedly that would have been nice, but thinking about how Prompto might have been born - “I don’t know if I’d be alive if that were the case.”

“ _What_?” Gladio’s shocked again. Incredulous.

The answer isn’t simple though. Prompto doesn’t have any hard _facts_ to back any of this up.

But he does his best to explain anyway.

“I did a lot of research when I was like fifteen - you wouldn’t believe it but I got really emo about all this stuff,” Prompto manages a laugh and peeks out of Gladio’s neck just in time to catch the end of his smile. Good. Better. “A bit _obsessive_ actually. And it turns out that the main researcher, _he_ was kind of _obsessed_ with genetics so everyone’s parents were really well documented, y’know? If they didn’t know who the father was at least a mother was listed,” Prompto looses steam a little here, mumbling the last part in the hopes Gladio might not fully catch it, “And I had neither so - I dunno, I think maybe they like, grew me or something.”

Gladio just squeezes him tighter and rocks him side to side in a playful swing that eventually causes laughter to build up and spill out of Prompto’s mouth until he’s breathless with it.

Also good. Also better.

When they’ve petered out again Gladio cups his face in both his hands and stares into his eyes for a long moment, searching. He keeps a hold of Prompto, forcing the contact between them as he speaks.

“What happened to you sucks, it’s _awful_ and I’m so sorry you lived through that but it doesn’t change anything, okay? You and me, we’re still you and me. No matter where you did or didn’t come from.”

“Really?” Prompto checks, not sure he’ll ever hear it enough for it to truly, permanently sink in.

“Mhm,” Gladio murmurs.

“Really, _really_?” Prompto says, aiming for playful now, knowing he’s pushing his luck but doing it anyway.

Gladio squishes his cheeks together, “You’re still you, you’re still my _Freckles_ alright?”

Something about the old nickname - that he knows still lingers in Gladio’s phone - and reference to the very beginning of them helps Prompto start to accept that Gladio means it.

This doesn’t change anything for Gladio, Prompto’s still the same person to him he always has been.

That’s all that matters.

The words _I love you_ appear on the tip of his tongue then, the urge nearly overwhelming but Prompto can’t handle anything more today so he just surges forwards and tries to kiss the feelings into Gladio’s mouth.

Gladio seems more than agreeable to the idea, sinking backwards onto the couch and helping Prompto adjust on top of him so they’re touching in as many places as possible.

\- - -

Prompto should have gotten the charger out himself. He shouldn’t have given Gladio free range to rummage around in his bedside draw.

And when Gladio had pulled out his little purple vibrator and brandished it with a grin Prompto should have told him that it sounded like a bad idea rather than falling over himself to get his pants off.

Gladio angles the blunt head of it up into Prompto’s prostate at the exact moment he clicks the button to increase the vibration and Prompto might have come all over himself had Gladio not squeezed the base of his dick at the exact right moment.

Prompto’s hands scramble down to Gladio’s to try and get him to move his hands, to get him off or at least _touch him_ a little.

“No no,” Gladio says with feigned patience, catching both of Prompto’s _bare_ wrists in one hand to pull them back, “Don’t make me tie your hands back.”

Prompto’s eyes pop open and he swallows nervously. Gladio taps the button on Prompto’s vibrator until it turns off and it’s dislodged a little from its brutal placement though still an obvious pressure inside him.

“Prom -”

“Yes,” Prompto blurts, licking his bottom lip, “Yes please.”

Gladio lets go of Prompto’s cock so he can take one of Prompto’s wrists in each hand, pressing a kiss to each palm in turn.

“Really?” Gladio asks, and he knows the hesitance probably comes from the knowledge of his past, that concern that something like this will trigger something inside him, a memory of being restrained before.

But back then he’d felt powerless and with Gladio it’s the opposite. Prompto knows he can give Gladio the power to hurt him, to crush him with one flex of his strong hands and he never would. Never would he do something without Prompto’s enthusiastic consent.

“I - I like it when,” Prompto swallows again, “When you hold me down sometimes.”

Gladio’s smile is _almost_ smug, “Yeah, I caught that.”

Prompto rolls his eyes and when he flexes his arms Gladio holds tight.

“I - can we try?”

Gladio kisses his palms again, “Anything you want.”

“And if I don’t like it -”

“You say. We stop. We never have to do it again,” Gladio says simply.

Prompto smiles then shifts his hips, “Now, please.”

Gladio laughs and drops his wrists. “You got a tie or something?”

“Top left draw, or like, my belt is on the floor…”

Gladio kisses down Prompto’s torso as he slides off the bed, ending with firm lick up the length of his cock. It takes just moments for him to retrieve one of Prompto’s two ties - black with little grey diamonds on it - and reappear on the bed between Prompto’s spread thighs.

This would be easier in Gladio’s bed, with his slatted headboard, and Prompto can tell Gladio’s trying to work out how best to do this as he surveys Prompto sprawled across the bed.

Prompto’s trying to behave, staying still and keeping his arms close together, resting on his heaving stomach, just above his aching cock.

Suddenly Gladio pulls Prompto by the hips, laying him diagonally across the mattress so his heads in one corner. Prompto glances up and sees the tip of the bedpost where it protrudes over the solid board. When Prompto is settled Gladio sets the tie down on Prompto’s chest, ignoring his frown, and reaches down between his thighs again.

The vibrator buzzes to life once more and Gladio takes a minute to search out Prompto’s prostate again, watching for his telltale gasp and then cruelly backing off again just the tiniest amount so its a just shy of blissful pressure pulsing inside him.

“Fucking -” Prompto moans and Gladio just chuckles before grabbing Prompto’s hands again and starting to wind the end of the tie around his wrists. Gladio ties them together with a few loops and twists, testing for space with a couple of his fingers. Prompto thinks he could probably wiggle out of them if he put his mind to it but no prospect has ever felt less appealing than that does in this moment.

“Okay?” Gladio checks and between the vibration inside him, Gladio’s intense gaze and the imminent fulfilment of his fantasy Prompto can only manage a nod in response.

Gladio ties the other end around the bed post and again Prompto thinks he _could_ get free if he really tried but when Gladio’s hands release him and Prompto gives an experimental tug Prompto feels secure.

Restrained.

Gladio pets over his thighs and gives Prompto a questioning look. Prompto arches his hips and gives a needy moan when the vibrator is jostled and Gladio reaches on instinct to presses it deeper and stop it sliding free.

Prompto’s rewarded with a long wet kiss and the feel of Gladio slowly moving the toy inside him, in and out just a few inches back and forth and it’s frustrating and exhilarating when he attempts to jerks his hands forward to bury in Gladio’s thick hair and they're stopped just a scant inch away from their original spot.

Prompto whines into Gladio’s mouth and he mutters, “You asked for this.”

Prompto has to grit his teeth to say, “Get on with it then.”

Gladio laughs again, a dark thrilling rumble, and get on with it he does.

Slowly he builds up the vibration inside Prompto, one click at a time, holding it up against Prompto’s prostate until his cock is twitching and threatening to burst and backing off again, waiting for him to calm down then going back in at the next setting.

Gladio keeps one hand on Prompto’s cock too, his own pressed hotly to Prompto’s thigh, working him in tandem with the toy in rough strokes and soft squeezes as needed.

Prompto’s pulled back from the edge of orgasm a third time and his moan chokes off in a sob, dampness gathered across his eyelashes.

“You need to stop?” Gladio asks, voice delightfully rough to Prompto’s ears.

“I need to come,” Prompto blurts.

“Well why didn’t you say something?” Gladio teases which is complete bullshit because it’s _all_ Prompto has been saying, begging as he writhes about as much as he can.

Gladio ramps the vibration up again and whatever motion he does with his hand _rolls_ it against Prompto’s prostate and he build hilariously fast, thighs tensing up and dick pulsing as Gladio strokes it steadily.

Prompto pants loudly into the air of his apartment, terrified that Gladio might stop and kind of terrified that he _won’t_. Not sure he can withstand such an intense swell of pleasure as it builds and builds and builds -

Gladio works him up to and over the crest of his orgasm this time, only slowing the hand on his dick when it seems like Prompto's finally run dry.

“Please,” Prompto murmurs when he’s cognisant again, pressing against the steel length of Gladio’s cock as best he can. The vibrator isn’t inside him anymore but Prompto can hear it still buzzing against the sheets so Gladio must be beyond the function needed to turn it off.

“You need me to untie you?” Gladio grits out, even as he smears the come on his hand along Prompto’s thigh and grabs for the earlier discarded lube.

Prompto shakes his head rapidly and Gladio squirts some lube onto his palm and adding it to the mess he just made on Prompto’s thigh. Gladio hesitates before his next move, reaching to unhook Prompto’s binding from the post but leave them tied together.

Probably, Prompto thinks, so he doesn’t wrench Prompto’s shoulder clean out of it’s socket when he rolls Prompto slightly onto his side so his thighs are pressed together, bent at the knee along the bed.

Gladio presses his cock between them, sliding between slick, firm thighs.

It’s kind of a good job that Gladio seems content to take care of his own pleasure himself, Prompto has neither the wherewithal nor the hands available to help. He _tries_ to rock his hips in time with Gladio’s rough, brutal thrusts but he’s not sure how much it really helps.

Gladio grips Prompto with both hands, one on his thigh above his knee and the other on the fleshy part of his ass, bending him almost so Prompto's top knee touches the mattress and he has all the space he needs to fuck himself to release between Prompto’s thighs.

Prompto thought it might take longer but Gladio’s yelling out his own cry of pleasure in just a handful of minutes, thighs pressed impossibly close to Prompto’s like he does when he comes inside him.

So Gladio must like Prompto being tied up as much as he does.

Good to know.

The moment Prompto starts shifting his wrists, bindings only uncomfortable because he wants to _hold_ Gladio, Gladio snaps out of his post-orgasm stupor and reaches for the knot, loosening it with a few deft movements so it unravels at once.

“You okay?” Gladio asks, still out of breath himself but helping Prompto adjust to be more comfortable against the bed again. Gladio settles at his side, one arm under Prompto’s shoulders to cradle him close and the other reaching to rub his wrists tenderly.

Prompto nods, turning kiss Gladio’s throats.

Gladio chuckles, but there’s just a hint of nervousness there.

“Prefer it if you could be verbal again, babe,” Gladio says.

“I feel fucking awesome,” Prompto says immediately. His voice feels a little scratchy and he can only wonder how loud he cried out.

“Good,” Gladio murmurs, cupping Prompto’s face to tilt him around for an affectionate kiss, “And verdict on the whole -”

He waves his hand over Prompto’s body and Prompto smirks.

“Amazing. Tie me up again please - though. I’m not sure I’d want anything, like, _crazy_ intense.”

“Me neither,” Gladio agrees, “I’ll get us some more ties.”

Prompto giggles and arches in Gladio’s hold to stretch his back a little. They should go clean up but if Gladio’s in no rush then neither is Prompto.

“Got any more ideas in that pretty head of yours?” Gladio asks, oddly sincere.

Prompto bites his lip, “Maybe.”

Prompto can and will talk to Gladio about any all of them but for now he’s kind of sexed out. He knows what they’re like, talking will quickly lead to other things.

And Prompto’s not sure his body can take it.

His heart does a weird lurch when Gladio bends to kiss him again, first on his mouth and then soft flutters across his cheeks and forehead.

 _I love you_ , Prompto thinks.

Thinks but doesn’t say.

Instead he reaches with a hand to trace the length of the scar on Gladio’s face, dissecting right from above his eyebrow down over his cheek.

“Noct tell you how I got it?” Gladio asks softly.

Prompto shakes his head, eyebrows pulling down with concern. If Noct was involved -

“Me and Iggy had taken him out for his eighteenth birthday - he’d just started to be able to walk without his cane for more than an hour or so and he was itching to be out,” Gladio explains.

“Bet you all were,” Prompto says.

Gladio gives a soft shrug, “In some ways. I wasn’t as tied to his side as Iggy, but yeah, I guess we were.”

“So how’d you get hurt?”

“We were on our way out of that horrible pizza place he likes so much - I bought him his first beer, all that stuff. And some guy spotted Noct, realised it was him and just _flipped_. Drunk of course.”

“He attacked Noct?” Prompto asks, aghast.

“Not at first. At first he just yelled at him, a tonne of stuff that’s not true. Blamed him for a war he was barely alive during, y’know.” Prompto nods. “We thought he was fairly harmless and Noct was handling it, talking him down, asking if he could help.”

Because _of course_ Noct wouldn’t back away from the aggressive drunk guy on the street but instead try to _help_ him.

“But that just got the guy madder for some reason and eventually he just smashed his bottle and lunged for Noct - I didn’t want to hurt the guy, obviously, because he was just a civilian lashing out because he was angry so I -”

“Jumped in front of a glass bottle?” Prompto finishes, aghast.

Gladio shrugs again.

“It was the right choice,” Gladio says, then he grins and asks, “Because cute blonds dig scars, right?”

Prompto playfully bats at Gladio’s chest, laughing breathlessly.

“You’re the worst,” Prompto complains when he can talk again. He rolls more onto his side and pushes up to kiss the tail end of Gladio’s scar on his cheek, “But yeah. I guess we do.”

\- - -

The dog hasn’t been in the alley the last two mornings and Prompto’s starting to worry about her. He doesn’t want to go in the shop and ask if anyone’s seen her and when he makes a few phone calls to rescue centres she doesn’t seem to have turned up there either.

Still, Prompto sets out on his morning run with a water bottle and baggy of lunch meat just in case, a cheap folding camping bowl he picked up from a charity shop crammed into his running belt.

Prompto digs out his phone to check the time, feeling unusually sluggish today and deciding to cut through a park he normally goes around to give himself a break.

And then he sees her - bigger than she was the first time - and wobbling a little as she skirts around a bin, sniffing eagerly. Prompto veers towards her, eyes fixed on her form.

She looks _thinner_ already. Prompto doesn’t know how long she’s been on the streets already but it’s long enough now it’s starting to show -

Prompto pings right off the lamp post and falls to the ground on his ass, phone clattering out of his hand and then skittering across the rough path.

No one else is in the park right now but the dog notices, perking up at the noise and then trotting towards him eagerly with her tail wagging.

“Hey girl,” he murmurs quietly, staying still while she has the confidence to nose around his shoulder, nose pleasantly cool and damp.

Prompto’s a little winded from the fall, mostly from the shock, so he scrambles for the food and water, pushing the bowl out and emptying the meat into it first - lovingly torn into shreds with his own fingers. The dog guzzles it down eagerly, tail wagging as she eats every morsel. Prompto lets her have a drink after and when she’s done she deigns to let him stroke across her shoulders and down her flank.

She whines softly and steps close to his side, body warm and reassuringly sturdy.

“Gonna let me take you somewhere safe?” Prompto murmurs pitching his voice low. She’s being properly receptive to his touch for the first time, eagerly seeking out more and Prompto will absolutely take advantage of that.

She gives the tiniest of barks and then licks Prompto’s cheek and he chuckles. The closest centre isn’t far, if he can get her to follow him it should be okay. He should have saved some of the food, used it to encourage her on -

“Hey!” Someone calls from across the park and the dog _bolts_ , flying off between two trees and vanishing from sight. The person who called jogs towards him, panting and slightly out of breath, “Are you okay? Hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Prompto says, trying not to show his frustration because this person _means_ well, even if they just fucked things up for him. Prompto accepts the hand they offer to help him to his feet and then slowly walks over to where his phone had landed.

His beautiful yellow case is broken. Completely smashed.

There’s a huge crack right up the edge of it, the back lying separate another pace away. The phone itself looks fine though, the screen isn’t scratched, thankfully, but there’s a large dark one across the back of it. When he presses the home button, however, the screen lights up like normal so Prompto assumes it’s merely an aesthetic concern.

“Do you need help getting your dog?” they ask Prompto, smiling kindly.

“Oh - no. Thanks, but I’ve got it,” Prompto says a little warily. He doesn’t want to explain that she’s a _stray_ , he doesn’t know how they might react.

“You sure you’re okay? Can I help you get anywhere?”

“I’m really fine,” Prompto assures them, managing to smile now, “Thanks for stopping to check on me.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, “Have a nice day, now.”

“You too,” Prompto says, waving as she turns to walk back the way she came.

Prompto rushes over to the trees where the dog disappeared and spends a long time looking for her and trying to call her out of hiding. At one point he hears a little yip from her but she’s gone when he investigates the area and Prompto’s forced to leave _again_ before he spends the entire day here.

-

“What are you gonna get your dad for his birthday?” Prompto asks Noct.

They’re at the diner for lunch, Prompto’s got soup and a sandwich coming, but he’s a bit distracted - worrying about the dog, trying to mentally put together a display for his art show.

Stupid to worry about that _now_ though. He’s got months before it happens. Plenty of time to decide on pieces. Make new ones.

It’s his carbuncle dreaming painting that got him the spot, a second recommendation from his photography professor from the semester before - a good word from his sketching teacher.

Prompto’s kind of surprised he got selected. He played it down to Gladio but it is actually _kind of_ a big deal, at least as far as college goes. First year students rarely get selected and especially not those leaning in towards photography.

He’s nervous.

Excited, but nervous.

“Probably a dumb t-shirt,” Noct says casually.

Ignis rolls his eyes, “Surely he has enough by now.”

“He like them,” Noct insists, a little defensively and Ignis softens at once, understanding overtaking his face.

“Of course,” Ignis says.

“You got something else for your phone?” Gladio asks Prompto suddenly, reaching for his hand on the table.

“Hmm? Nah, I’ll have to get something this weekend,” Prompto explains. He frowns, wondering how he’s going to work that into his budget when he’s been burning all his fun money on food for the dog. He certainly doesn’t want to put a dent in the money he put aside for Gladio’s birthday present.

“No walking and texting for a while, huh?” Gladio teases.

The table laughs, petering off as their food arrives.

Noct has almost a whole chickatrice strip in his mouth when he turns to Prompto to remind him, “Wait for me after class, okay, and we’ll go back to mine together.”

Prompto nods, soup spoon in his mouth. Prompto has two classes this afternoon, Noct just one. Noctis _loves_ it, knowing that he technically doesn’t have to roll out of bed until three in the afternoon most weeks. Even if the class is some complicated ethics thing that makes Prompto sweat just thinking about.

“Let me know what you’d both like to eat and me and Gladio will have it ready for you,” Ignis tells the. Then adds, “Eat your peas, Noct.”

-

Gladio buys a console while he’s out with Noct which is only suspicious because Prompto knows he doesn’t really have the desire to stick with most of the games available on it. Gladio’s a casual - at best - Kings Knight player and he’ll play four player games when they’re altogether. But -

This is a very thinly veiled purchase for Prompto’s benefit. No matter how much Gladio tries to say he was thinking about getting one for a while now.

It makes Prompto a little uncomfortable, such frivolous spending on his behalf, but he knows Gladio loves to do things for him, take care of him like that. Only last month had Gladio swapped out Prompto’s running shoes for new ones when he saw the tattered remains of them by his front door.

Prompto had pushed back then, gotten almost angry at him and Gladio had looked so crestfallen, explaining that he’d just been worried about him - Prompto _knows_ you shouldn’t run the distances he does without adequate support.

Prompto had thanked him with a kiss in the end and the shoes _were_ nice, comfortable with the level of cushioning he prefers.

“I’ll set it up when we get back to your apartment later,” Prompto tells Gladio, firmly setting the boundary that this belongs in _Gladio’s_ home and not his.

Gladio kisses his head gently, looking pleased and Prompto’s glad he didn’t put up a fuss. Gladio has access to an unfathomable amount of money and he’s not stupid or reckless, if he couldn’t afford to buy it he wouldn’t have.

Prompto needs to try and get used to that. If he's going to be with Gladio for as long as he hopes he will then it's an inevitable part of his life.

“I mentioned to my Dad about your art show,” Gladio says to him while he’s perusing the back of a game box - okay Prompto totally wants to play this one, “And he’d like to come if that's okay?”

Prompto blinks in shock, looking up at Gladio’s face, all hopeful again.

“Oh,” he says dumbly. Sure Clarus had told him he’d like to get to know him better when they’d parted last Sunday and Prompto had believed him, but -

It’s unusual for adults to take an interest in him this way.

“That’s so sweet,” Prompto says, “Of course its okay -” nerve racking but more than okay “- let me just check the date, I’m sure he has to organise work stuff.”

Ignis suddenly perks up, “What art show is this?” he asks.

“Um. Just a student art show the school does every year,” Prompto tells Ignis, Noctis drops his phone, frowning _just_ a little.

“How come you didn’t tell _me_?” Noct asks.

“Hadn’t gotten round to it yet - dude I was totally gonna force you to come, buy your ticket and everything.”

Noct laughs and Ignis reaches for the notebook Prompto knows works as his organiser too. Prompto rattles off the date from the email and the adviser simply nods murmuring, “Iris will likely want to come too.”

“Can we buy the tickets online or campus?” Noct asks.

“Uh - both. But I think we get special rate on campus,” Prompto explains, eyes flitting over the email again for details.

Noct turns to Ignis, “Tally up who wants to come and I’ll grab the tickets one day at school.”

Prompto rolls his eyes because of course Noct’s not going to let _him_ buy the tickets.

“I got you a present today,” Gladio says then and Prompto looks up in surprise, frowning as Gladio retrieves a small bag from beside the couch. He wants to be _mad_ about it because Gladio spent a bomb already that’s mostly for Prompto’s benefit but the bag is so _small_ and it’s not often that he gets _presents_ rather than things that feel like _charity_.

Still, Prompto makes himself scowl pointedly so Gladio knows he neither needs nor wants to be spoilt.

Prompto gasps happily as he pulls free the little plastic container holding a brand new phone case.

It’s matte black with little pixel art chocobos across the back in every colour Prompto could think of - a suitable replacement for his old one.

“You went and got me a new phone case,” Prompto coos, staring down at the art. Not just any phone case either but something cute and fun that Prompto undoubtedly would have picked out for himself.

Gladio knows him _so_ well. Cares about him so much.

“Well I didn’t think your phone would survive you bouncing off another lamp post” Gladio teases.

Prompto laughs, overcome with emotion and blurting, “Oh Em Gee. I _love_ you.”

It takes half a second for Prompto to realise what he said. Blurted out stupidly. In front of their friends.

Prompto _burns_ with embarrassment so hot it touches on shame, scrambling physically and mentally to _fix_ this -

“ _It_. I mean. I love _it_ , the phone case I mean -” Prompto stammers, trying to cover his tracks. But he doesn’t actually _want_ to cover his tracks, have Gladio think he _doesn’t_ love him. This is just not how he’d pictured saying it, “- Gladio, I -”

“Prom?” Gladio interrupts smiling.

Prompto meets his eyes nervously.

“I love you, too” Gladio says simply.

Prompto inhales sharply and then surprises everyone including himself by immediately bursting into noisy tears.

Gladio crouches in front of him but it takes a while for Prompto to really appreciate that as he tries to get himself under control. He swipes under his eyes but it’s entirely fruitless and he gives up when Gladio gently cups his face with both his hands.

“Baby what’s wrong?” Gladio asks, concern obvious. Prompto’s distantly aware of Noct or Ignis - maybe both - moving around behind Gladio.

Prompto sniffles and grasps Gladio’s wrists for something to focus on. He didn’t ever want to tell them this, to admit how lonely and unwanted he’d been before but no other reason he can give will explain this _ridiculous_ reaction to four sweet words.

“No ones ever said that to me before.”

Iggy makes a low noise behind Gladio and he spots Noct making an aborted gesture with his arms. Gladio leans in to kiss him then and everything else disappears.

It’s a sweet kiss, Gladio moving his mouth slow and careful, hands still on his face. Gladio pulls away so there’s just a breath between them and whispers, “I love you.”

Prompto feels more tears threaten but he manages to sniff them away, delirious giggles bursting forth in their place.

Prompto feels -

He feels _everything._

Happy, of course. _Overjoyed_. But with the horrible creeping reminder that most people don’t live until they're twenty without ever being loved before.

“Sorry,” Prompto manages to get out in a whisper for Gladio. Carefully pulling free of Gladio’s hold he shifts enough to look over Gladio’s shoulder to Noct and Iggy.

“Sorry,” he says again.

“None of that,” Ignis says, almost sharply before he’s on the move saying, “Let me get you a drink.” Which sounds pretty great actually. Prompto feels all strung out, like he does after a panic attack but also completely different. This is much nicer – like the emotions are just as intense but flipped completely on their head.

Noct steps closer and over Gladio’s shoulder Prompto can make out his expression.

Intense. Mischievous.

Nope. Nope nope nope.

Prompto _cannot_ -

“Don’t you fucking dare, Noct,” Prompto demands roughly, “I swear to Ramuh, I’ll _kill_ you if you do what I think you’re about to.”

If Noct says it too Prompto will combust, just burst into flames or smoke and never be seen again.

Gladio drops pulls one of his hands free from Prompto’s face and turns briefly to look at Noct too, clearly on guard.

“But Prom, buddy, pal, I really really need to tell you,” he starts, “How much I really really -”

“ _Noct_ ,” Prompto whines desperately.

“- really want to play _King’s Knight_ with you right now.”

Prompto laughs again, tossing a throw pillow at Noct’s stupid smug face. It’s satisfying to see Ignis gently smack the back of his head when he returns.

“No okay,” Noct says, “I deserve that. For real Prom, you okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I don’t know what happened.”

Prompto’s not sure when he’ll stop feeling _raw_ from this new emotion that he’s apparently allowed to feel but Gladio snuggles with him on the couch and Ignis is attentive while he ensures Prompto drinks the whole can of his favourite lemonade. Noct does start a round of King's Knight and maybe everything's a bit much and a bit scary.

But Gladio loves him back.

Gladio _loves_ him.

\- - -

After work on Thursday Prompto heads straight to Noct’s apartment.

Prompto has one last thing he’s realised he needs to do.

Ignis may know where Prompto was born but that is absolutely not the same as _Prompto_ telling him. And Ignis absolutely deserves to know. To know Prompto trusts him enough to give him the information himself.

“I’m gonna call my Dad, okay?” Noct says to him quietly, “But I’ll be right in my room.”

Prompto nods, chewing his lip.

“Thanks,” Prompto mumbles.

Noct smiles and gently knocks their heads together before heading off to his room, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Are you alright?” Ignis asks, finally coming out of the kitchen and settling on the couch with a few hand spans of space between them.

“Yes,” Prompto says quickly, “No, actually. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Ignis turns to face him more fully and reaches for the TV remote, muting the nonsense program they had playing.

“So um,” Prompto starts, “You know I was born in Niflheim.”

Prompto winces, because yes. Duh. Iggy knows he was born in Niflheim.

Ignis just smiles encouragingly.

“Uh. So. I was in foster care from when I was eight,” Prompto explains, “From place to place, you know.”

Ignis nods but his face is a little sad now.

“And before that I was raised in a facility - I’m sure you know all about them. Where they were taking the kids and training them up to be soldiers.”

“I have heard about them yes,” Ignis says, “Nobody deserves to be raised in such a place.”

Prompto manages a weak smile. “Well I wasn’t just raised there. But born too. Or made, maybe is the right word.”

Ignis frowns, “What do you mean?”

Prompto’s mouth is dry, nervous again despite Iggy’s almost complete non-reaction to this information.

“Um, I don’t have any parents. And I’m the only one that was born in the facility, that I ever found out, so - I dunno. I think they might have made me or something. They were messing around with genetics -”

“You don’t have any parents?” Ignis interrupts to ask, “Are you sure they aren’t just, sadly, no longer with us.”

Prompto shakes his head, “But they would have listed them. Here.”

Prompto drags out his phone and easily opens up the website with the database he’s periodically looked at since he was fifteen. Keying in his serial number - which he doesn’t need to uncover to remember - he hands the phone to Ignis.

“See? And if you swipe to the next one they have like parents, grandparents, siblings all listed.”

Ignis just frowns down at it, utterly perplexed. Almost _angry_.

“Iggy?”

Ignis straightens sharply.

“Apologies.”

“Everything okay?”

“I - of course,” Ignis says, “Thank you for trusting me with this Prompto, I’m honoured. Though I will assure you that if you were concerned this might change the way I think about you that you haven’t told me anything that I didn’t already know.”

Prompto exhales, “I thought as much.”

“It really does mean a lot that you _chose_ to tell me, however, and I wish we had been in a situation where it wasn’t necessary for me to know things about you before you could tell me yourself.”

“It’s okay,” Prompto murmurs, “Comes with the Noct territory.”

Prompto doesn’t know why it occurs to him then but he asks, “Does Nyx know?”

Ignis is clearly uncomfortable with the question and he hedges for a moment.

“I don’t mind if he does,” Prompto says quickly, finding it to be true. If Nyx knows he’s never given any indication it bothers him or matters in any way. They’re both outsiders here, after all, even if it’s in very different ways.

“I am kind of done doing big talking about it things though. So. If he finds out and _I_ don’t have to tell him I wouldn’t mind,” Prompto assures Ignis when he continues to look uncertain.

“Thank you,” Ignis says, “It’s _difficult_ for me to keep things from him at all, I admit. But also, there was a time when I was concerned about you - not your character, never your character - just your well-being and it was hard to explain to Nyx _why_ this was the case without giving him some deeper understanding of your history.”

Prompto manages another smile.

“Has anyone ever told you that you guys are really cute?”

Ignis goes slightly pink, “Very few have the _nerve_.”

Prompto laughs. He’s relieved and happy to have this done with and glad it wasn’t the emotional roller coaster it had been whenever he’s talked about it before. Dr Greene would say that's a good thing but at the moments she’s heavily focused on getting to the root cause of what it is that still makes Prompto cry whenever someone tells him they love him.

“Hey, do you - uh. Do you know if Clarus knows?”

Ignis nods slowly, “I really think he must, though we’ve never spoken about it.”

Huh.

Prompto thinks _that's_ okay too.

\- - -

Prompto fights to consciousness through a thick fog with the smell of disinfectant lingering in his nose.

“Prompto Argentum,” Ignis’ voice says sharply, “You scared the life out of all of us.”

Prompto groans, hand pulling at the cannula they forced on him for _no good reason_. It’s too much, he doesn’t need it. It’s horrible.

It reminds him too much of being a kid. Sickly and unwanted.

“Prompto,” Ignis says again, sighing this time and coming to grip his hands and stop him.

“Please,” Prompto begs, “Please take it out - I can’t. Iggy -”

Ignis shushes him, reaching first to press the call button beside Prompto’s bed and then smoothly untangle the tube from around Prompto’s face and remove it from his nose.

Prompto can breathe so much easier _without_ it and he's so relieved he even stays still and lets Ignis wipe under his nose with his handkerchief.

Prompto wants to leave - wants to get back to that alley and check the dog is okay. Wants to call Gladio and Noct and tell them he’s okay.

He wants to _leave_.

Prompto tries to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed but Ignis stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder and then a nurse is bustling into the room.

She eyes them suspiciously, “You called?”

“My friend was having difficulty breathing -”

“That’s what the _oxygen_ was for,” she snaps.

“Yes, well. The cannula was causing him some distress. I’m sure if you checked his medical file -”

“He doesn’t _have_ a medical file. He’s an immigrant not registered with a GP in Insomnia,” she says again, bravely interrupting Ignis. She must no know who he is, no one else would have the nerve, “He’s lucky we found him on the system at all.”

Ignis’ face is pinched and Prompto suddenly feels like he’s going to be doubly in trouble.

“Does he need an oxygen mask or was it merely a precaution?” Ignis asks.

“If he can stop from panicking he can do without,” she says indifferently. Honestly Prompto might as well not be in the room.

“I want to go home,” Prompto says. He’d wanted to go home the moment he got here. Wanted to not get in the ambulance at all. He could have done without the stitches and the pain meds. He’d have survived.

The dog might not.

“You don’t have a care dependant,” the nurse tells him, sounding tired.

“I’m twenty,” Prompto tells her. He _thinks_ they’ve had this conversation before.

“You also have a severe concussion and compromised mobility and we can’t in good conscience let you go without supervision.”

“He was asleep when I got here,” Ignis says, “Should he have been?”

“He was uncooperative and we had to sedate him,” she tells Ignis.

Iggy’s face pinches again.

“I am in a position to care for him while he recovers,” Ignis says.

Prompto opens his mouth to argue and then snaps it shut again. He should get out of here first and _then_ convince Ignis he can take care of himself. Ignis has too much to do without looking after Prompto.

Suddenly he wants Gladio something fierce but he's out beyond the walls of Insomnia on a training mission.

The nurse purses her mouth and glances between the two of them before saying, “I’ll get the doctor.”

When she’s gone Ignis says, “Gladio wants me to take you back to his apartment, if that’s agreeable with you.”

“Fine,” Prompto says, mind going a thousand miles a second, “Can we stop somewhere on the way?”

Ignis nods, “You’ll need clothes and school supplies I’m sure.”

“No, like. Somewhere else,” Prompto says, “Where I got hurt.”

“Did you lose something?” Ignis asks, “Nyx or myself can go and look once you’re settled -”

“It’s not that either,” Prompto blurts, “Please Iggy?”

Ignis shakes his head. “Let’s speak to the doctor first,” Ignis compromises but Prompto can tell its a big fat no, “Do you feel up for calling Gladio? I think it would do him wonders to hear your voice?”

Yes. That’s a good idea. Both because Prompto really would like to halt any worry his boyfriend has but also because Prompto can convince _Gladio_ to let him go check on the dog.

Though explaining exactly what it is he needs to do feels like it would work against him.

If he pulls it off though having Iggy’s car will make it easier to get her somewhere safe.

-

“I could have gone to get you something if you needed something to eat,” Ignis says warily as he pulls up outside the corner store at Prompto’s indication.

Nyx climbs out of the car first and hurries to open the passenger door for Prompto.

Honestly? He’s in a lot of pain and the meds he has to take with his mouth are not as good as the ones they pump directly into your arm. Not even a little bit.

But she's worth it. Prompto _has_ to know.

“What are we looking for?” Nyx asks him, supporting him by his upper arm without asking. It’s actually very helpful.

Prompto’s never been hit by a car before, he didn’t know it would hurt this much.

“Um,” Prompto says warily but deciding it’s best to be honest now, “A dog.”

“A dog?” Ignis and Nyx echo at the same time.

Prompto nods vigorously. Dumb mistake, now his head hurts again.

“Prompto,” Ignis says warily, “Explain please.”

Though to Iggy’s credit he dutifully follows Prompto towards the alleyway, unsnapping his gloves and folding them into one of his pockets.

“She’s a stray,” Prompto says, “I’ve been trying to get her somewhere safe but she’s skittish. This morning she was out looking for scraps by the bin and the car - the driver - I don’t know if he didn’t see us but, he mounted up on the curb and she was too fixated on something she’d found to notice so I like - pushed her out of the way -”

“Jumped in front of a moving car,” Nyx corrects but when Prompto looks up at his face he looks kind of proud of him.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “But I got kind of knocked out and then I came round being bundled into the ambulance and they wouldn’t let me check if she was okay and I - I just really need to know she’s okay.”

“You’re very attached,” Ignis says, “I can tell this will bother you until we find her.”

“Yes,” Prompto agrees, “It will.”

They find her easily enough, back where she always used to hide and when Nyx shifts the bin out of the way to make her more accessible she whimpers and growls low until Prompto soothingly says, “Hey, hey.”

She shoots out lightning fast, bumping against his legs and racing excitedly around him and Iggy - who had rushed forward to brace him - wagging her tail and looking nothing but pleased to see him.

“Good girl,” Prompto praises her, rubbing her head and expiring from fondness when she turns to lick his palm.

It's worth it. All the pain means nothing in light of seeing her whole and healthy.

“This is Iggy,” he tells her and Ignis stoops a little to hold out his hand. She looks scared, ears pinned back, but she comes forward to sniff Ignis anyway, apparently finding him a-okay because he is also gifted with a lick across his hand, tail wagging again.

Nyx crouches just behind them and Prompto smiles at him, rubbing the dogs head and saying, “This is Nyx, he’s good too.”

The dog belly crawls over to Nyx, sniffing all around his combat boots before rolling over onto her back and looking up at Nyx expectantly. Nyx chuckles softly as he reaches to rub the soft white fur on her chest.

“You think we pass?” Nyx asks when she rolls back over and gets to her feet to rejoin Prompto.

“One way to find out,” Prompto murmurs, hoping beyond hope she’ll let them put her in the car despite all his previous attempts to take her away failing miserably.

As soon as Prompto takes a step away though she follows, glued to his heels by an invisible four inch string. Nyx opens the back door and playfully gestures to the seat and she jumps right in like she’s never been frightened of a thing a day in her life.

Prompto doesn't know where all this confidence came from but he's certainly happy about it.

When Prompto gets in the front she sticks her head between the seats and attempts to lick all over his face.

Ignis clears his throat, “Nyx. It would be best if Prompto’s bandages weren’t covered in dog saliva, actually.”

The dog whines a little when Nyx coaxes her back but settles happily when Nyx sets up a rhythmic unending scratch between her ears.

“The no kill shelter on Fremont Road has a vet clinic attached,” Prompto tells Ignis and the adviser pulls smoothly onto the road.

-

The dog isn’t chipped.

The shelter is full.

The only shelter with space is notoriously awful and certainly not _no kill_.

Prompto can’t stand the thought of her _dying_. Not after everything.

It’s stupid and reckless but he tries to call Gladio and gets no answer so he just has to make a decision then and there to save her life.

“We’ll take her,” Prompto says to the veterinary nurse, “Me and my boyfriend.”

Prompto’s not allowed pets but _Gladio_ is, _and_ Gladio’s always wanted a dog. It’ll be okay, right?

The nurse's shoulders relax, relieved and he says to Prompto, “I’ll get the paperwork.”

Ignis is still and silent at his side.

Before Prompto can dig up the courage to ask his opinion the nurse comes back with a clipboard and says to Prompto, “Who’s filling it out you or your boyfriend?”

Prompto opens his mouth because his boyfriend isn’t here but Ignis beats him to the clipboard, plucking it out of the vet’s hand with a disarming smile.

“You should be sitting down, dear,” Ignis says, shooting Prompto a look. He’s really glad Nyx is a few doors down getting lunch for everyone.

Obediently, blushing, Prompto takes a seat in one of the plastic chairs, not realising just how tired and _aching_ he is until he's down. Still, he peers up at the form as Ignis fills it in, expertly putting all of Gladio’s details down into the correct boxes without flinching even a little.

Prompto would laugh were he not so worried about what he’s – they're now he supposes - doing.

“She’ll need a name,” Ignis murmurs to him once all the adopters info is filled out.

“I’ll go bring her back,” the vet tells them, “In case you need a little more time to work it out.”

When he’s gone Ignis passes Prompto the clipboard and he scans over the open boxes. Blanching when he spots the recommended donation box.

Prompto literally doesn’t have that much money in his account.

“What am I doing?” Prompto whispers.

“Saving a poor defenceless creature’s life,” Ignis says at once.

“I’m surprised you went along with this - it’s irresponsible.”

Ignis hums thoughtfully, “Perhaps. But sometimes the correct course of action is not always the most reasonable. Gladio has _always_ wanted a dog.”

“Yeah?” Prompto says, “I mean - I did know that. But you don’t think he’ll be mad or upset or -”

“Firstly,” Ignis interrupts, “I would like to point out that Gladio would let you install a chocobo farm in his apartment if he thought that was the best way to make you happy.”

Prompto laughs, but he’s more delirious than actually amused. He feels strangely light headed and he remembers with a start that he was in the hospital a little over an hour ago.

“Secondly, were we not to do this - to let her go off somewhere where she might very well be killed for little to no reason and later told Gladio as much - _then_ he would be upset and angry with us.”

Prompto nods.

“I um. I can’t afford the donation,” Prompto mumbles.

“Well as your _boyfriend_ I think I’m well equipped to take care of that for you,” Ignis says with a grin.

“I’ll pay you back,” Prompto promises. Iggy is cool and reasonable, he’ll accept instalments.

Ignis shrugs, “We’ll see. Now. A name.”

The door opens and a happy bundle of fluff comes rushing towards them. She stops by Prompto, puts her paws up on the chair beside him and noses her way into his neck.

“Struggling?” the vet nurse asks, “The name is for her chip, so I can’t leave it empty but you can change it later if you need to.”

Prompto nods.

If he’s being honest it’s not like he _hasn’t_ thought about it before. It’s not like he hasn’t had the thought of bringing her here and then later bringing Gladio back to visit and _maybe_ them taking her in.

After a frank and open discussion about the responsibilities.

Gladio was sure to fall in love with her the same way Prompto had, he thinks, so Prompto _had_ been thinking of some Amicitia appropriate names.

A flower obviously.

But nothing too fancy. Nothing that’s too much of a mouthful.

Prompto looks into her beautiful mismatched eyes and feels his heart swell.

This is the right thing to do. He’s sure of it.

With a slightly trembling hand Prompto scratches _Rosie Amicitia_ into the box.


	12. Reunions and Regalias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosie settles into her new life and Noct and Prompto's first year at college comes to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels important to remind everyone that Clarus is the person that rang round Insomnia hospitals to see if that’s where Prompto was when he was missing.  
> Guess who messed up her notes so we for some reason didn’t go with Prompto to Insomnia Ink to get his first tattoo? Me. It was me. I done fucked up. We will get to enjoy Prompto tattooing his own thigh in the next chapter instead.  
> Background stuff Prompto's not privy to, that assassination attempt a couple chapters ago? Well canon boys involved. Drautos is gone so I just made Libertus leader of the Kingsglaive because I didn’t have any better ideas – and I guess that kinda happens in the canon.

[Noct 08:21] you better not go to the fucking pet store without me

[Noct 08:22] you can’t keep me away from my niece like that

[Prompto 08:23] holy shit you’re awake before 10am

[Noct 08:24] iggy always said a child would change me

[Prompto 08:25] me and gladio were heading out about 9. we’ll pick you up?

[Noct 08:26] id meet you there but this gets me out of iggys hair for a couple hours and he’s very excited

[Noct 08:27] he has something to do today but hes being suspiciously secretive about it

Prompto laughs and stows his phone in his back pocket. Rosie cocks her head to one side from her perch at the edge of the bed and Prompto reaches to scratch around her ears.

“Did you get a text from Noct, too?” Gladio asks ducking into the room.

Rosie’s tail starts up a excitable wag and Prompto delays his answer at the sight of Gladio’s soft smile, watching him come forward to stroke over Rosie’s back and dip down to press his forehead to hers.

Gladio absolutely has fallen in love with her just as much as Prompto hoped.

He’d spent a lot of time last night double and triple checking Gladio was _sure_ it was okay to take her in. All through Gladio helping him have a bath - with the door open so Rosie wasn’t alone - and right up until he eventually fell asleep wrapped in Gladio’s arms staring at Rosie curled up on a pile of blankets Gladio had dragged out of his wardrobe when she seemed unable to settle on the bed with them.

Gladio had just said _I’m sure_ every time Prompto asked.

“Wants to spoil her I bet,” Prompto says.

Gladio kisses Rosie’s head and straightens up.

“I asked and he said he wanted to get stuff for his apartment so we could bring her round without packing up loads of stuff,” Gladio explains.

“That’s actually kind of sweet,” Prompto murmurs.

-

They have to get two carts, one for all the stuff Gladio and Prompto are getting for Gladio's apartment and one for all the stuff _Noct_ wants to get.

Noct buys Rosie a set of bowls, a bed, blankets and small mountain of toys - all tested by the lady in question of course – and all in black to match his apartment. Prompto and Gladio pick out things in an assortment of colours to match Gladio’s taste; lots of reds and browns but also pretty much just anything they or Rosie seems to like. Gladio bites the bullet and gets her two beds, one for the bedroom and one for the main living area.

“We’d probably just end up moving it back and forth anyway,” Gladio says nonchalantly. Prompto feels more than a little guilty about all the money. Not that Rosie doesn’t deserve it but Prompto can do so little to help out.

Prompto has a tight hold on Rosie’s leash but she’s keeping fairly close to his side, only stepping away when Noct or Gladio beckon her over to test something out. They shouldn’t have any trouble teaching her to walk at heel, at least. _Prompto_ might have an issue with it though, part of him terrified of her getting scared and running off like she always had before they’d rescued her.

At least she has a micro-chip now and shortly she'll have a shiny new tag for her collar.

Noct holds Gladio’s cart steady while he hefts a gigantic bag of dog food into it. Remarking, “Thank fuck you guys have an elevator.”

 _You guys_ , he says. Forgetting Prompto doesn’t actually _live_ with Gladio and has no immediate plans to do so. Not that the idea isn’t appealing it’s just a lot. Prompto _has_ agreed to stay for a little while though, to help Rosie settle in and to let Gladio look after him a little until _at least_ his stitches are removed and his walk is more than an aching wobble.

“See that, Rosie,” Prompto says, “You’ll never be hungry again.”

Noct snorts and Rosie gives a happy little yip Prompto wants to record and set as his message alert tone.

“She’s gonna get fat,” Noct teases even as he tosses a box of biscuits into his cart with one hand a picks up a pack of chews with the other to look at the back.

Noct refuses to buy anything with _filler_ in it. His diet might be garbage when Iggy’s not around but Rosie’s only allowed to eat the _best_.

Prompto winces as he bends to pick up a reflective bandanna they could tie to her for walks when its dark out and Gladio, of course, catches it.

“You need to sit down?” he asks quickly, “There’s some benches over by the registers.”

“I’m fine,” Prompto assures him, “Just twinged my ribs a bit, sitting won’t help.”

Gladio frowns but doesn’t argue, giving him a little kiss right on his hairline, an inch away from where his stitches start.

“I’m starting to get tired though,” Prompto admits, tilting his face up hopefully for a better kiss and receiving it at once.

“You guys are gross,” Noct sing songs with zero heat behind it.

“Are you and Luna gonna honeymoon in separate hotels?” Gladio asks.

Noct’s cheeks go pink.

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

Honestly, Prompto wouldn’t be surprised either way. And he’s a hundred percent sure Luna will support whatever Noct’s comfortable with.

“We’re almost done,” Gladio says, turning back to Prompto, “You’re almost due some more pain meds and you should definitely eat with them.”

True, the ones he’d taken before bed last night had made him so nauseous he’d had to lean over the toilet for fifteen minutes just in case. He’d taken them with breakfast this morning and felt _heaps_ better for it.

Rosie hops up on her back legs, thankfully resting her front paws on _Gladio’s_ thigh, and attempts to nuzzle at Prompto’s face until he gives in a pets all around her ears.

“I’m okay,” Prompto tells her and she settles back down with a little doggy grin.

-

Prompto doesn’t want to admit he needs one so he only agrees to a nap on the grounds he can do it on the couch and at least partly on top of Gladio. Gladio puts up almost no resistance.

Prompto just wants to enjoy laying down in whatever damn position he fancies while his pain medication is really putting in the work.

They put on a movie and Rosie plops down onto one of her new beds, rolling around happily and settling comfortably on her back with her paws in the air.

-

Prompto comes awake slowly. Dimly aware of the noise of the front door closing and Rosie’s nails clacking excitedly against the wood floor.

Prompto’s stomach gurgles loudly. Food. He can smell food. Galahdian, he thinks, if he can trust his nose.

Gladio must have carried him to bed, he realises and Prompto must have been pretty deeply asleep because Gladio had stripped him out of his jeans and wristband so he’d be more comfortable and Prompto doesn't remember waking up.

A deep baritone from the living area is answered by another one similar but more familiar and then a high tinkling laugh. Prompto wakes up a bit more.

That’s right, he remembers, Clarus and Iris have come over for dinner to see him after yesterday's accident.

And to meet Rosie of course.

They’d wanted to come yesterday - Clarus had rung around dinner time to ask after him and see if it was okay to pop over but Prompto was seriously flagging at that point so Gladio had - thankfully - said no and arranged for dinner today instead.

Prompto drags himself out of bed as best he can, snapping on his wristband and then dragging on a pair of sweatpants from his duffel at the foot of the bed.

Prompto catches sight of the tattoo on his other wrist, all healed up now, just simple and perfect against his skin. Getting it done hadn’t been as difficult as he’d thought it would be - barely hurting at all thankfully, just a little tender around the boniest part of his wrist.

It hadn't been as mentally challenging as he'd feared either.

Prompto thinks he might have managed to sit through the whole thing without Gladio’s hand in his and the sound of him and Eli chatting away but he’s glad he didn't have to try.

There’s a light tap on the door and Prompto says, “Yeah?”

Clarus opens the door half way leans his head and shoulders inside. He looks at Prompto standing upright and his face breaks into a wide smile.

“You’re up,” he says happily, stepping inside, “Gladio wasn’t sure -”

And then Prompto is being hugged.

Clarus is sturdy and warm, his arms not crushingly tight but secure and surprisingly gentle around his shoulders. The back of his hair is ruffled softly and Prompto almost feels like crying as he returns Clarus’ embrace.

“How are you feeling?” Clarus asks as he releases Prompto, keeping one hand on Prompto’s shoulder.

“Not too bad,” Prompto says, “My head feels fine but my ribs -” Prompto gestures towards the top of his torso and Clarus nods.

“No way to strap them and make it painless unfortunately,” Clarus says and Prompto figures he probably knows what he’s talking about. Has probably hurt his ribs at some point in his career.

“Ignis said you were having some issues with your hips?”

Prompto blushes, “It's just bruising from the impact – but I can’t walk for too long,” he admits, “Which sucks because I should be helping with Rosie.”

“Gives Gladio some time to bond with her,” Clarus says easily like Prompto has nothing to worry about, “Lets get you settled again.”

Clarus leads him back into the living room where he spies Iris and Gladio dividing food from takeaway containers onto four plates. Rosie sits by their feet, obviously hoping for scraps.

“Prompto!” Iris cries spotting him and abandoning her spoon with a clatter to rush over.

“Careful,” Clarus warns when she’s just a few paces away and Iris pulls back, hesitating for a second before throwing her arms around him more gently than she had last time. Clarus’ hand comes to rest on his upper back like he’s worried Iris might knock him over.

Which she probably could, to be fair, current injury unnecessary.

“Don’t do that again,” Iris demands when she lets go.

“Promise,” Prompto says grinning down at her. Iris nods like its a done deal and starts back over to her brother.

“Everyone I asked said you like Galahdian food,” Clarus tells him, “So I hope you’re hungry.”

“It’s my favourite,” Prompto says then really considers it, “Well. Maybe.”

Prompto likes a lot of stuff.

Clarus laughs and Prompto starts to make his way over to the stools lining Gladio’s breakfast bar.

“We can sit on the couch,” Gladio says when Prompto has reached him but Prompto just shakes his head and heaves himself into the seat closest to Gladio. Heedless of Gladio’s family watching Prompto tilts his chin upwards in a wordless request for a kiss. Gladio smiles a little indulgently and kisses his firmly dead on the mouth rather than the forehead like Prompto was expecting.

Gladio winks as he pulls back and pushes a plate full of food towards Prompto.

“I’ll grab your pills.”

\- - -

“So what are the chances of you getting three weeks off work without getting fired?”

Prompto looks up at Noct and stifles a yawn behind his hand. Prompto’s post therapy and they’re waiting around in a lower part of the Citadel for Gladio and Iggy to get out of a meeting with Clarus and The Marshal. Who is and is not Gladio’s superior or something.

Prompto doesn’t really get it.

Gladio had dropped Rosie off at the manor earlier, he can only assume she’s being a good girl for Iris and Jared. Though Prompto knows exactly where she’ll be if Jared has started cooking dinner.

“Well, since Linc took Thursdays away from me he kinda owes me. So. Fifty/fifty.” Prompto explains. For a a long moment there’s silence between them. Then Prompto’s brain catches up with him.

“Why would I need three weeks off in the summer?”

Noct grins, “You know that trip to the chocobo post?”

Prompto gasps.

“Shut up,” Prompto blurts, “You're joking - I thought -”

“Gladio cleared it with Dad this morning,” Noct says, “If I promise to keep a low profile it’ll be just the four of us. Maybe some loiterers in the cities and stuff.”

“Wow - wait. Why do we need three weeks to visit the chocobos? What cities?”

“Prom. We’re going on the great chocobo racing, sea fishing adventure of a lifetime,” Noct says, “You’ve always wanted to go to the beach, right?”

Prompto sits back in his chair, with eyes wide, wondering how on earth his life had become _this_.

“Will we go to Lestallum?” Prompto asks eagerly.

“Mhm, did you pass through on your way to Insomnia?”

Prompto shakes his head, “Docked in Galdin so it was just a straight shot through Leide to the bridge. A long straight shot but straight shot nonetheless.”

“Oh man, so you’ve already been to the Quay?” Noct complains, sounding bitterly disappointed.

“Yeah but only in the dark - and also I was distracted because my phone suddenly didn’t work _and_ that asshole stopped me and only me to check my visa before letting me off the boat.”

“Ugh,” Noct says, “It’ll be different this time. We’re gonna have a blast. Ostium wanted you to carry a gun for security -”

“Noct,” Prompto breathes, heart racing, “Noct, I can’t -”

“Hey, no no. I said no,” Noct rushes to assure him, leaning into his space and gripping his forearm, “You’re not ever - Prom I promise. No weapon. No gun.”

Prompto nods but his heart is still pounding at the idea of a _real_ gun in his hand. Noct had posed the idea to him way back too, wondering if Prompto would enjoy shooting targets in the Citadel’s gun range. But no, Prompto would decidedly _not_ like that.

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Noct is saying, “Breathe or I’ll page Dr Greene down here.”

Prompto chokes on a laugh that gets lodged in his throat but he _can_ remarkably breathe easier after that.

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbles but Noct just shakes his head with a slightly tight smile.

“I told Ostium to fuck off, literally, if Gladio and Iggy are enough security in Insomnia they’re enough security anywhere,” Noct explains.

“You know that - if I had to protect you I would, you know? I’m not just going to stand there and let stuff happen to you,” Prompto says.

Noct rolls his eyes, “Duh. But you’re not feeling uncomfortable for three weeks, okay?”

Prompto smiles and nods.

“It’s weird because I thought Cor would side with Ostium but he agreed with me, like, straight away,” Noct muses.

Again the name Cor. Again the same sense that Prompto’s forgetting something.

Noct sighs and glances at his phone, “Man this is running _long_. I should have taken you to the gallery.”

“Next time,” Prompto says, “Though you literally never game me a tour _at all_ let alone the super special best-friend tour you promised me.”

Noct barks out a laugh and then glowers as he climbs to his feet, spreading his arms wide.

“So this is the admin hallway of the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard training facilities,” Noct says, “It’s really boring but at that end of the corridor you'll find an entrance to all the training halls and locker rooms. Including a pool.”

Prompto laughs, “Okay, okay. Sit your ass back down.”

Noct flops into the chair next to Prompto with a groan. After a moment he asks, “Do they teach you how to swim in Gralea? There's no water near the city.”

“Uh. It’s not on the curriculum but I kinda learnt at -”

Prompto’s distracted when the door swings open and Gladio comes striding out first. There’s a gaggle of people behind him but Prompto doesn’t notice at first because Gladio gives his best most handsome grin at the sight of Prompto and immediately crosses to where he’s sitting. Gladio holds out a hand to Prompto and uses it to tug Prompto to his feet so he can give him a kiss.

Gladio’s mouth is only an inch away when Prompto spots the group spilling out of the room behind them. Clarus is there, of course, and Iggy behind him but then -

Prompto pulls his face back without really meaning to, mouth popping open.

“Babe?” Gladio says concerned.

“Oh my -” gasps kind faced woman with short brown hair, just starting to go grey. _Monica_ , Prompto’s mind supplies, her name is Monica. And Monica _named him_.

“Prompto,” she says softly and the suddenly she whirls round and uses the short stack of folders in her hand to smack the man on her left on the shoulder.

And that’s -

Oh. Prompto recognises him too. The soldier that had given his name the okay. That had been stern and serious but gentle as he’d lifted Prompto in and out of the bus and had held a juice box steady for him when he’d broken down that first night away from the facility, unable to sleep with the lights on and the soft, continuous murmur of noise.

Cor. _Cor._ It’s why the name Cor has been making him feel _something_. Why he’s felt like he knows who that is but not understanding how.

Because their Cor is also Prompto’s Cor. Even if he’d forgotten he had a Cor.

“When I found out His Highness’ friend was named Prompto I literally _mentioned_ him and you just - decided not to tell me?”

Cor intercepts the folders before they can make contact with him again and then Ignis, with a really weird expression on his face, takes them deftly from his hands.

“I didn’t want a connection with us to affect his life here,” Cor tells Monica calmly.

“It just would have been nice to know he was okay,” Monica retorts earnestly.

“What is _happening_?” Noct demands.

“They were there when - they rescued me,” Prompto says. He twists his fingers in the fabric of Gladio’s t-shirt and adds, “ _Monica_ named me.”

Gladio’s mouth opens and closes and for a long moment Prompto can _see_ his brain working.

“Holy shit,” Gladio all but whispers, putting his hand comfortingly over Prompto's, “If I’d known - I never thought to ask the names of the people.”

Prompto shakes his head, “I couldn’t remember Cor’s name until just then - I mean. The Marshal, sorry, sir.” Prompto blushes and looks at Cor apologetically.

“Shit, kid,” the Marshal says shaking his head, “Cor is just fine.”

“How are you?” Monica blurts, “Are you doing well? Did they - were you treated well?”

“I - I’m doing pretty good,” Prompto says, choosing to skirt the second part of the question at the hopeful look on her face, “Insomnia is great - I’m at the University.”

Monica probably knows that, can probably put together the information from facts she already has but it feels good to say.

Monica gives a tremulous little smile and takes an abrupt step forward before stopping herself.

“Is it okay if -?” Monica half raises her arms and Prompto steps around Gladio to walk into them, letting her hug him tight around the shoulders and returning her hold gently.

Softly he hears Clarus mutter, “I _told_ you.”

“Shut up,” Cor says back.

“So you guys met Prompto when he was like eight?” Noct says, “Just so I’m understanding correctly?”

“That’s correct, Your Highness,” Monica says, letting Prompto go and giving him a watery smile.

“I’m surprised you remember me,” Prompto admits, “There were so many of us.”

“Of course I do,” Monica says and she absently smooths over some of his hair.

“Wow,” Noct says cooly, “If that happens again Cor please just bring the kid home, oh my Gods.”

Prompto laughs even though an imagined childhood _here_ is playing out rapid fire in his mind.

Would he and Noct have met as children? How different would they be now? Would he and Gladio have ever gotten together? Would _they_ have grown up together? Maybe been friends for a really long time before eventually falling in love?

Would he have experience twelve years of Ignis made birthday cakes?

“They wouldn’t let us,” Cor explains and Prompto thinks he can detect frustration in his tone, “The Niflheim government wanted to handle it themselves to show they didn’t support what was being done there.”

“Even though they knew,” Clarus adds, “Liars.”

Prompto’s kind of vaguely aware of Noct sidling up to him and slipping an arm across his shoulders and then Gladio’s hand pulling through the hair at the back of his head.

“Perhaps that's enough for the day,” Ignis says softly but when Prompto looks over at him he's surprised to find Iggy almost _glaring_ at Cor. His mouth set in a tense, unhappy line.

“Hey,” Gladio murmurs near his ear, “You ready for dinner? Rosie’s waiting for us.”

Prompto nods distractedly.

Yes, Rosie. Good. Being with Rosie will help him handle everything.

“If you ever have any questions,” Monica says, “You know where to find us.”

Prompto glances at Cor because he senses he’s the one who gets to really decide this but he simply nods and add, “We’ll be here.”

-

Clarus has to make a phone call when they eventually get back to the manor but it works out because it gives Gladio and Prompto an excuse to set Rosie up in her harness and go for a long walk together so they can just _process_ Prompto seeing some of the first people that were ever kind to him in his life for the first time in twelve years.

Gladio holds Rosie’s lead in one hand and Prompto’s hand in the other. They make it to the end of the road before Gladio apparently can’t wait any more.

“Are you _okay_?”

Prompto shrugs, “I _think_ so.”

It had been a shock, but he generally only has _nice_ memories of the two of them – memories that are fragmented and hard to grasp. Maybe after more time has passed he'll feel differently. But right now?

Prompto's okay?

They pause to let Rosie sniff around a tree and Prompto smiles as he watches her follow a scent trail up the trunk, going up on her back legs to trace it up as high as possible.

“I’m not,” Gladio blurts, quickly adding, “I mean I know it didn’t affect me. But I - I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Prompto moves closer to Gladio and goes up on tiptoes to kiss his jaw.

“About what happened to me?” Prompto checks.

“That. And the fact that it could have been different, at least _after_ ,” Gladio says, “You could have been _here_.”

Gladio untangles their hands in favour of cupping Prompto’s jaw to hold him steady for a soft kiss.

“I’m here now,” Prompto says, Gladio’s thumb rubbing his cheek, “Lets just - we can focus on that. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.”

Gladio kisses him again, smiling a little, and it lingers warmly until Rosie’s nosing at them to ask why they stopped walking.

\- - -

Rosie is _crying_ , distressed whines that echo in the very depth of Prompto’s soul.

“Shh, shh,” Gladio tries to soother her, crouching down to be on her level to try and stop the anxious circles she’s pacing in front of the door.

She whines long and low that wavers out into a little howl of anguish.

Prompto got his stitches out this morning and moving about has been generally fine for a few days now so Gladio had suggested they go on a little date to celebrate.

Just a single movie, they'd decided, because they haven’t left Rosie alone since the found her. They knew it might be _stressful_ but as soon as they had their shoes on and put on their coats Rosie had trotted over to sit by where her lead hangs even though they weren’t long back from her walk.

Gladio had laughed at her - because it was _cute_ \- and just patted her head as he reached for his shoes. As soon as they were ready to leave and it became obvious to her that she wasn’t going she’d started getting worked up, anxious about being left alone.

Abandoned.

Rosie’s stopped pacing mow but she’s stood with her head propped on Gladio’s knee still making those sad, heartbreaking noises.

Prompto shakes his head and starts stripping off his jacket.

“Prom?” Gladio asks. He’s steadily petting along Rosie’s back and all around her ears and thankfully she seems to be calming down. Even so, Prompto absolutely cannot leave her now.

“We’re not going,” Prompto says and he knows it’s probably irrational but he _can’t_. Prompto knows that the tears he can feel burning in his eyes are obviously apparent in his voice.

“No,” Gladio says, “We’re not. Get your shoes off and take over here so I can get out of my coat too.”

Prompto hastily unlaces his boots and kicks them off a little haphazardly, settling right down on the floor. Rosie eagerly climbs as much into his lap as she can, upper body on his legs and head pressing into his chest. Prompto puts on arm around her, making sure not to hold her too tight and takes up making those soothing soft noises Gladio was going with before.

By the time Gladio has shed his outer gear Rosie has stopped crying but Prompto’s sad to say he can’t get her tail to start wagging no matter how good he scratches her chin.

“Better,” Gladio says, “It’s weird because she doesn’t mind being left with other people.”

Rosie’s spent the day with Noct before and several long afternoons at the manor when Gladio’s work at the Citadel and Prompto’s schooling coincide.

“I kind of getting not wanting to be alone,” Prompto muses, “After having to be for so long.”

Gladio’s face drops and then he just sits right down on the floor beside them. Rosie makes a new noise, her happy yip, and clambers right across Prompto so she can collapse her front legs and chest into Gladio’s lap leaving her back end in Prompto’s.

Prompto gets smacked right in the face when her tails starts wagging.

He doesn’t care.

\- - -

Prompto prints out a second copy of his schedule and scribbles in Gladio's schedule around it to work out when the gaps in their ability to be with Rosie fall. It’s only about a dozen hours a week but on Tuesdays six of them are all at once and while he and Gladio want to work on getting her comfortable being by herself for at least short periods of time six hours feels like a stretch.

At least so soon.

“I double checked campus policy,” Prompto tells Gladio, “So she can definitely come to school as long as she’s on a leash and doesn’t go into buildings.”

“We’ll work it out,” Gladio assures him, “Nyx said he’ll have her on campus if I’m stuck at the Citadel.”

Rosie _loves_ Nyx. Probably because almost _every_ time Prompto glances over at them interacting Nyx is sneaking her some little tidbit or other.

“But won’t that mean reorganising his entire schedule?” Prompto asks in concern.

Gladio shrugs, “He wouldn’t have offered if he cared.”

Prompto mulls it over guiltily but writes _Nyx?_ into one of the empty spots on his schedule.

-

As usual it’s Iggy that saves the day.

He drops in one evening with a small pile of folded black fabric with _something else_ on top and simply hands it off to Gladio with a smile. Prompto’s boyfriend takes one look at it and laughs heartily, calling Rosie over from where she’s chewing lazily at a toy.

When Gladio’s done slipping the black harness over her she gives a long shake from nose to tail and trots over to Prompto like she’s asking for approval.

It’s a simple thing, plain black with a few extra hooks and straps, and in neat white stitching along the side it reads _Crownsguard Companion Animal_.

“Wait,” Prompto says happily, “Does this mean -?”

“I can bring her to work,” Gladio says, “Yeah. Smart thinking, Iggy.”

“Nothing to it,” Ignis says, “I got the idea when I almost tripped over Penny’s cat in HR.”

Prompto snorts, “I feel like _all pets allowed_ is a very Noct initiative.”

Ignis chuckles, “Regis started allowing support animals for people that needed them. At first it was just dogs but then people pointed out that _any_ pet can help someone feel more safe and secure.”

“Also Noct doesn’t know that cat exists,” Gladio points out, “We’d never get him downstairs again.”

\- - -

“Prom. Please let me help you,” Noct begs but Prompto can hear the laugh in his voice.

Prompto’s knee jerk reaction is to deny that he _needs_ help. But.

His portfolio is weighing down his arms and he’s trying to hold the separate bundle of printed photographs carefully so the edges don’t get damaged _and_ the Carbuncle Dreaming canvas is _heavy_ under his arm, big and cumbersome.

Prompto sighs and turns so Noct can take the canvas and then the Prince says, “Pelna, c’mere.”

“Highness?” Pelna says stepping up to them. Prompto likes Pelna, he’s unobtrusive even though Noct’s security has generally been _more_ obtrusive since the assassination attempt. He’s also fun - obviously amused by their antics most of the time. Top three bodyguard to be tailed by, right behind Gladio and Nyx.

“Can you carry Prom’s, uh, y’know? Portable art holder, thing.”

Prompto almost drops everything he’s still holding.

“What did you just call my portfolio?” Prompto demands, “It is _offended_.”

“Portfolio, _right_ ,” Noct says.

Pelna takes the portfolio into his hands and Prompto is admittedly relieved to feel the weight gone. His back pack is full of stuff too, his camera for one, and all the stuff he’ll need to pin his work up. A change of clothes.

Prompto laughs at Noct’s expression of wonder, leading the group towards the art part of campus. Prompto hasn’t spent a lot of time in the specific building where the art show is taking place, generally reserved for the more advanced classes of third years and post-grads.

Prompto’s painting teachers waves him over almost immediately as they enter, leading him over to one of the temporary display walls in the centre of the room. Prompto’s pretty happy to be sandwiched in behind someone else so he won't be first thing people see when they enter the gallery.

Once everything is set down Noct’s fingers immediately start searching for the tape on opaque plastic surrounding the canvas.

“Woah,” Prompto says, “I’ve got this. You go chill out.”

“Uh? Don’t you want my help?” Noct asks, blinking in confusion.

“It’s fine,” Prompto says trying to subtly remove the canvas from Noct’s hold, “I have to do all the admin stuff too, I know you have a tonne of work to do.”

They both do. Prompto is _honoured_ to have been selected for this show but he wishes it wasn’t scheduled the weekend before finals start. Prompto’s started sleeping in his own apartment again, now that Rosie is settled and he’s all healed up.

Prompto doesn’t _like_ it and the key to Gladio’s apartment weighs heavy in his pocket but he doesn’t actually _live_ with Gladio. That would be a fast development that Prompto has no way of meaningfully contributing in anyway.

It means his own apartment is getting trashed from all the last minute projects and late night cram sessions and not Gladio's. So there's that.

Noct frowns and normally Prompto would give in but he just doesn’t think he can handle the potential embarrassment of Noct seeing this painting _now_ right before Prompto is supposed to stand next to it for a few hours and answer stranger's questions about it.

“You sure?” Noct asks.

“Go chill out and get some food or something,” Prompto says, “I’ll be here.”

Noct leaves a little begrudgingly after that and Prompto starts to arrange his pieces. His professor comes over to help frame and hang the cumbersome canvas and Prompto carefully hangs the sketches, paintings and photographs he has to go alongside it in neat rows.

“I really think you should consider selling it,” she says, stepping back to look at Prompto’s arrangement so far.

They have little numbers to put up next to work they're willing to part with. Prompto’s got a dozen of them ready to go up underneath his photographs, digital copies already with the university on the off chance anyone is willing to pay for them.

“It’s a gift,” Prompto tells her. Again.

If Noct doesn’t want the painting Prompto’s probably just going to burn it - but not really. It’s an earnest expression of _love_ for his best friend and if Noct doesn’t like it or want it Prompto doesn’t know what he’ll do but he knows he can’t bear the idea of someone else having it in his stead.

“Lucky them,” she tells Prompto, “Are you all right finishing up? Make sure you register your number correctly at the desk.”

“I’ve got it,” Prompto says. But he needs to get a move on or he won’t have time to get changed.

-

The doors open fifteen minutes early for _press_ which Prompto hadn’t been expecting. There’s only a half dozen of them and mostly they wander in with an obvious lack of enthusiasm, wearing button up shirts and pressed pants, stopping only to snap a few photos and talk exclusively to the professors and department head.

The girl across the way - whose paper cut art is _exquisite_ \- catches Prompto’s eye and rolls hers playfully when one of the journalists tucks her head around the temporary wall, glances at their displays and then backs away again without a word.

Two of the journalists however are wearing jeans and t-shirts emblazoned with the words _Meteor Publishing_ , one with an ill-fitting suit jacket on over the top. One of them is holding a camera - good quality, expensive - but is clearly uncomfortable holding it. They’re the only two left when other people start trickling in.

Prompto knows the others aren’t going to be here as soon as the doors open, it just wasn’t feasible with everyone’s work schedules and arranging security. Nyx isn’t coming tonight because he’s stepping in to fill the gaps in Regis’ security while Clarus is away but he promised to come see it another day. Prompto had told him he didn’t need to but Nyx seemed determined.

Plus he knows Ignis bought another set of passes for later this week. Prompto’s too touched by that to put into words.

In his back pocket Prompto’s phone vibrates and he looks around warily, noting the presence of the department head a few paces away and feeling like he has to wait until he’s disappeared before he can read the message.

[Gladio 18:37] Just arrived, Freckles. Be in with you soon.

Thank the Gods for Gladio. Prompto’s really starting to feel that creeping social anxiety he gets in busy rooms sometimes. A gnawing sense of _not belonging_. He knows that will all go away when his friends get here.

[Prompto 18:41] oh thank ramuh. i’ve just been hovering by my wall since the doors opened, i have no idea what i’m supposed to do

“These are Gralea,” someone says and Prompto turns to see the larger of the two denim wearing journalists standing close by, looking up at Prompto’s top row.

“Yes,” Prompto says, “I, uh, grew up there. Took them a couple years ago. They were taken in the summer believe it or not.”

The man nods, “I’ve been, did some work there a while ago. Not a nice place.” Turning to face Prompto he holds out a hand, “I’m Vyv, founder of Meteor Publishing.”

Prompto takes his hand and wonders if he should pretend he’s heard of them but Vyv saves him from the lie by saying, “We distribute in Lestallum mostly so you probably haven’t seen our work, but looking to get our online presence up and running before branching out to Insomnia too.”

“Wow,” Prompto says, “What kind of stuff do you cover?”

“All sorts,” Vyv says, “Nothing particularly hard hitting, but stuff that’s important anyway. Or should be, maybe. Arts, up and coming musicians. Events overseas.”

Prompto nods. It sounds intriguing at least and he'll never knock people that support and encourage the arts. He does wonder why they’re at a university art show.

“Prompto, is it?” Vyv checks and Prompto’s confused at first before remembering the name pinned to his display.

“That’s me,” Prompto says, “I work in all mediums but photography is my favourite.”

“That’s what you want to do? When you graduate?”

Prompto nods enthusiastically, “I want to be a tattoo artist but also sell photographs on the side. I’d love to travel - Lucian nature and stuff.”

Vyv smiles and looks back over Prompto’s work, “You thought of freelancing for a publisher?”

Prompto blinks, “I’m not opposed to the idea.”

“I might have something for you this summer,” Vyv says, “We don’t have a photographer at all let alone someone that can routinely get over to the city. You interested?”

“Are you - you’re serious?”

Vyv turns back smiling, “I really like your style. I think it would look great in the magazine.”

Prompto’s knocked dumb for a few moments and Vyv chuckles, reaching for his pocket to pull out a little case containing business cards.

“I pay pretty competitively and honestly you’ll be doing me a favour, we don’t have anyone on board yet - Nev is trying his best but he’s a graphic designer not a photographer.”

Prompto takes the card Vyv holds out and looks at it with mingled awe and confusion.

“Thank you,” Prompto blurts, “I’ll email you? Call? I’m travelling for a few weeks this summer and -”

“Hey not a problem, we’ll work it out,” Vyv says easily, waving his concerns away, “Just make sure you take good pictures I can use, yeah?”

Prompto grins and shakes Vyv’s outstretched hand again before the older man leaves him.

His photographs in a magazine.

A _print_ magazine.

Prompto can’t believe it.

“ _Oof_ ,” he says as all the air is knocked out of him by the force of Noct colliding with his side. The minor pain is lessened immediately when Noct’s arms wrap tight around him.

“Prom,” Noct whispers, “It’s _amazing_.”

Prompto feels like it would be really easy for him to cry at some point this evening.

“The carbuncle?” Prompto checks as they pull apart.

“All of its great,” Noct says, “But _of course_ the carbuncle. Is Gladio right - is it for me?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “I mean – the frame belongs to the school but, like - I don’t expect you to hang it in your apartment but -”

“Of course I’m going to hang it in my apartment,” Noct says voice rising indignantly, “And then it’ll move to the Citadel when I have to move back.”

“But what if Luna hates it?” Prompto asks, half serious half joking.

“Then I won’t marry her,” Noct teases.

Prompto laughs loudly, trying to bite it off quickly because everyone is being so _quiet._ Noct buries his own laugh in his hand.

Prompto glances around and catches sight of everyone else heading their way, Gladio at the head of the group. Prompto leaves Noct still looking at the painting to meet Gladio for a quick kiss.

It’s disappointingly closed mouth and brief but it helps Prompto settle nonetheless. As soon as there’s a few inches of space between them Iris is wheedling her way between them to hug Prompto tightly.

Prompto laughs again, quieter this time as he hugs her back.

“Hey, have you guys looked around yet?” Prompto asks, “Thanks for coming.”

Clarus smiles at him, “Just a little. We thought we better see the important sights first.”

Prompto feels his face warm. Gladio’s hand is heavy and grounding on the small of his back and Prompto turns to explain the composition of his wall to everyone, letting Iris know what medium he used because she always asks.

“I didn’t know you painted like this,” Iris says.

“I’m not very good at it,” Prompto tells her and Gladio and Noct immediately scoff dismissively.

“When can I take this home?” Noct asks urgently then turns to Ignis, “Prompto says the frame belongs to the school Iggy, so we’ll need to get another one.”

Prompto almost laughs at his eagerness. It’s sweet and unexpected, making Prompto feel unexpectedly validated.

“Easy enough to arrange,” Ignis says, “Prompto can probably tell me the dimensions of the canvas.”

Prompto nods because yes, yes he can. To Noct he says, “You can take it when the exhibit is over.”

“So tonight?” Noctis tries.

Prompto laughs, leaning against Gladio’s side, “The displays are staying up until the end of the school year so students and stuff can some see them.” Students can come in during the day for free but they’re continuing to have ticketed events for the next three weeks, funds filtering back into the art department for supplies, “They’re getting rid of the wine though.”

“Dude,” Noct complains, the _why_ evident in his tone.

“I _was_ gonna make you wait until your birthday,” Prompto tells him, “So say _thank you_ to the nice but embarrassing art show.”

Prompto’s jostled by a nudge from Gladio but the mild lecture doesn’t come from him or Iggy like he’s expecting.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Clarus tells him firmly, “Your work is nothing short of remarkable, Prompto. You should be proud.”

Prompto's fading blush renews with vigour, “Thank you, sir.”

Clarus coughs pointedly and Prompto smiles, “Uh, Clarus, sorry.”

Prompto’s pretty good at remembering to call him by his given name but there’s a certain something about Clarus that _demands_ respect from a person like Prompto who’s hard wired to follow instructions from superiors.

“Who was that guy from before?” Gladio asks.

“Huh?” Prompto says, feeling slow. “Oh!-” they must have seen him talking to Vyv, “He works for a magazine. He, uh, said he might have some photography work for me this summer if I want it.”

“Congrats, baby, that’s amazing,” Gladio says earnestly, “You’re gonna take it, right?”

“Depends on some stuff, y’know,” Prompto says quietly, “But, yeah, if I can. Means I can ditch the sh-stupid sushi place, maybe.”

Prompto tries really hard not to swear around Iris despite no one else having the same qualms.

Noct elbows him in the ribs, “A real life photographer, huh?”

\- - -

Finals are somehow worse this time around.

Prompto thinks he’ll pass biology but he’s glad for the increase in his homework grades to help balance out what’s sure to be a less than stellar grade. Get it done though and next year he and Noct will take Literature together and then, amazingly, all Prompto’s non-art prerequisites will be over with.

Prompto’s almost done for the year, on the home stretch as Gladio would say, with just a week and four exams left. At first he was worried about taking the evening off for family dinner - and Clarus had assured him he didn’t _have_ to come - but he’s finding the simple domesticity of the evening oddly grounding.

Ignoring Jared’s protests Prompto helps prep the vegetables as Gladio shoots revision questions at him off the cards Prompto’s slowly been making the last two weeks.

“Sorry,” Clarus says stepping into the kitchen, “Last minute schedule issue.”

He steps around the island on the way to the refrigerator pausing, as always, to give Prompto’s shoulder a squeeze in greeting.

“I have your photos,” Prompto tells him, “In my bag - Gladio can you -”

“Got it, babe,” Gladio says, temporarily setting down the flash cards to dig the envelope out of Prompto’s bag and pass it over.

“You didn’t need to deliver them Prompto,” Clarus says kindly with just a touch of exasperation. Clarus breaks the seal on the envelope, face breaking into a smile when he sees the prints, “But I thank you for getting them to me sooner, my offices will be much improved.”

“No problem!” Prompto chirps happily, it wasn’t like the endeavour was difficult or annoying in anyway. Outside convincing the guy in the print room to give them to him at all. “It was actually really cool getting to see the fancy printer work,” Prompto admits, “Really it was a treat for _me_.”

Just Clarus _wanting_ to buy something was a treat for him. He’s still not over coming across Clarus at the desk, credit card already in hand as he ordered several prints from Prompto’s collection. Prompto’s will never be over the fact that’s not the only sale he made that night but it’s beside the point.

Prompto could have easily printed Clarus as many pictures as he liked free of charge but he’d refused and that moment of support, of him supporting his _art_ specifically had almost bought Prompto to tears.

“Artist responsible for revitalising the Solheim Impressionist style?” Gladio asks then and the answer comes easily to Prompto’s lips.

“Tobul Diskin.”

Gladio nods and asks, “Most notable for?”

“Kings of Light, painted 456 currently hanging in the Citadel’s lower Hall of History,” Prompto answers immediately.

“Good job, baby.”

Prompto flushes at the praise.

Iris’ hand sneaks onto his chopping board to swipe one of his carrot sticks and Prompto clutches his knife steady so as not to cut her.

“When is your test, Prom?” Iris asks.

“Tomorrow afternoon, and I’ve got a technical photography thing in the morning,” Prompto says.

Gladio cuts across to say, “You can develop pictures with your eyes closed.”

“I’m not worried about it,” Prompto says honestly. Prompto can’t see any reasonable circumstance in which he won’t get full marks.

“Is that your last exam?” Clarus checks.

“No I’ve got biology Monday and then my big three day painting thing before I’m done.”

Clarus passes Prompto a fresh lemonade, bubbling and ice cold in it’s tall glass and he thanks him more warmly than is perhaps necessary. He gets another pat on the shoulder in return.

This casual, tactile affection is _amazing_.

“So you’re all finished on Thursday?” Clarus checks

“Yeah -” Prompto nods, “Though, did Gladio warn you we might be late? I have to meet with my scholarship adviser and do some paperwork ready for next year.”

“Not a problem at all,” Clarus promises, “I just thought we could have a little celebration of sorts if all your exams are complete.”

“Oh no,” Prompto says quickly. They already do _so much_. “Please don’t make a big deal out of it - it doesn’t -”

“Allow me to at least cook you something special,” Jared presses.

“Everything you make is special,” Prompto retorts.

Jared smiles and teases, “Gladio will just tell me what you like.”

“Yes he will,” Gladio threatens and Prompto supposes it’s a done deal.

\- - -

Noct finishes the biology exam before him – obviously - and he’s waiting at the entrance to the exam hall with coffee and snacks by the time Prompto finally makes it outside. He’d still been checking his answers over when time was up, taking his time like Ignis taught him, and he’s too polite to push himself to the front of the crowd trying to get out.

He'd has to wait for the hall to almost completely empty before managing to escape.

Noct asks how it went by simply shifting his eyebrows up his forehead a little behind the curtain of his hair.

Prompto takes a long fortifying sip of his latte before saying, “Could have been worse.”

And Noct holds out his fist for a bump. Prompto returns it but lets Noct know he’s an idiot too.

Prompto doesn’t know what he’d do without him.

\- - -

Jared’s special meal isn’t what Prompto had been expecting. He’d been worried it would be an overly fancy affair but instead Jared just made a spread of all Prompto’s favourite things - little meat pies, pasta salad, skewers with a separate plate of extra spicy just for him - and they’d settled in the television free living room all together and ate with their plates on their laps.

Iris _soundly_ beats him at three board games in a row and Prompto is forced to distract her by offering to paint her nails for her.

It’s nice to have a practical use for colour theory away from his canvas.

And Clarus likes the help preventing her making a mess.

\- - -

Noct takes his shot of whiskey like a champ but Prompto coughs and sputters as it slides down his throat.

Ignis clears his throat and says blithely, “I warned you.”

“Never again,” Prompto mutters.

“Here,” Gladio says and he gifts Prompto with some sort of fizzy orange drink in a tall glass _and_ a kiss on the temple.

“Three weeks _is_ a long time,” Nyx says to Noct, “But only if you don’t want to spend two days at every single lake you come across.”

“It’s just -” Noct starts, visibly buzzing with excitement, “The Vesperpool has _two_ banks with a different ecosystem on each side because the way the sunlight hits the lake and the surrounding vegetation -”

“ _Nerd_ ,” Prompto calls.

Noct sputters unhappily and launches a coater at Prompto who narrowly dodges it. Rosie rushes over to sniff it where it lands on the floor.

“Apart from the chocobo ranch,” Ignis interrupts before Noct can make a second attempt, “Do you have any either requests, Prompto?”

Prompto hadn’t even considered the idea that he _could_ make requests.

Nyx must notice him floundering because he asks, “Anywhere you’ve always wanted to go?”

“Everywhere,” Prompto blurts.

Ignis tilts his head and looks at Gladio, “We might need to extend to three months.”

Gladio laughs.

“You wanna take pictures of Ravatogh, right?” Gladio asks, “And the Disc I bet.”

Prompto nods eagerly, “And the Vesperpool. So Noct can fish for as long as he likes.”

Gladio groans, “You’ll regret saying that.”

Gladio is next to get a coaster thrown towards him but unlike Prompto he deftly catches it out of mid-air. Prompto has to distract himself with his drink for a moment before he turns around and starts climbing Gladio like a tree.

Later, when the map is littered with pins and markers and Ignis had put in bookings at several hotels, while Gladio had researched and ordered dog-friendly camping gear. Noct and Prompto have maybe _over_ indulged in their drinks of choice so no one is particularly surprised when the Prince turns to Noct and jabs him rather hard somewhere around his knee.

Impressively Nyx neither flinches nor retaliates.

“You know you could come?” Noct tells him, “On the trip.”

Nyx half laughs, “Thanks, but you guys should have this time to yourselves.”

Ignis pats his boyfriend’s thigh and suggests a little tentatively, “Perhaps you could meet us in Galdin Quay for our return?”

Because they’re going twice, starting the break with sea fishing and a relaxing resort then stopping on the way back to recover from the rest of their trip.

“Yes!” Prompto crows, “Mini vacay for Nyx.”

Gladio and Nyx laugh and Prompto pokes one of his boyfriends glorious pecs to get his attention.

“What is it?” Gladio asks, looking annoyingly amused.

Prompto pouts, “Tell him. Nyx go swimming.”

Nyx fucking _cackles_.

“Hey Nyx,” Gladio says, “Go swimming, I guess.”

“Nooooo,” Prompto complains, “You know what I meant.”

Gladio’s really having to fight a laugh now, Prompto might be drunk to dumbness but he can still tell.

“Nyx,” Gladio says with obviously forced seriousness, “Please join us for the end of our vacation for three days in Galdin Quay. I will take these two out on a boat and let you have the hotel all to yourself with Ignis for a full half day.”

“Now that,” says Nyx, “Is an idea I can get behind.”

Ignis beams and reaches for his phone, “On that note I think I’ll order some pizza.”

Noct cheers and tries to give Prompto a high-five that only narrowly misses his face.

\- - -

“It’s just my dad,” Noct says around a yawn, “You’ve met him before.”

“Okay. Firstly; a video chat is not a real meeting,” Prompto says and Noct rolls his eyes, “Secondly; your dad is the _King_.”

“Oh yeah,” Noctis murmurs like he genuinely forgot.

Rosie nudges her cold nose into Prompto’s hand and he ruffles through the fur at her shoulders without bending down because she’s gotten so _big_.

They had her fixed last week, and after a bit of deliberation the vet took out a couple of her teeth that had grown in badly so she’s been on mostly soft food since. She doesn’t seem to mind so much but she had really not enjoyed her time at the vets even though the nurses had doted on her.

She’d slept in their bed that night, which she almost never does. Not when both of them are there anyway, Gladio says that its about a fifty percent chance she’ll sleep up on the bed to keep Gladio company when Prompto's away.

A couple of older men step out of the door Noct and Prompto are waiting around to enter - the _King’s_ office - and the one in the lead almost stumbles when he spots Noct.

“Your Highness,” they say, dipping into a kind of ridiculous bow. Even Rosie looks offended. The person with him gives Noct a respectful nod and Noct immediately nods back.

“Councillor Tameo,” Noct says blandly, “Kestus - I trust you had a pleasant visit with my father?”

The words feel oddly loaded in a way that Prompto doesn’t understand. Rosie tentatively approaches the second man, Kestus, and he gives her a moment to sniff at his hand before smiling a little and rubbing her head.

“As always, Prince Noctis,” Tameo says, giving another bow but less extreme.

Noct apparently has nothing to say and simply stares at him.

Tameo seems to take notice of Prompto then and Prompto tries to believe he’s only imagining the way the man’s lip curls. It’s an effort to resist the urge to thrust his Citadel ID at him.

“I shan’t keep you and your, ah - _friend_ from your father any longer,” Tameo sneers.

“Appreciate it,” Noct says coldly.

As the second man follows his companion away Noct says, “Enjoy your evening, Kestus.”

“Thank you,” they say, offering them both a knowing smile.

When they’re both out of ear shot Prompto looks at his best-friend and asks, “So we don’t like that Tameo guy, huh?”

“Not even a little,” Noct says. Noct grabs him by the forearm and gently pulls him towards the door, Noct knocks and then pushes it open without waiting for a response.

“Dad? Me and Prompto are here,” Noct says.

“Ah, Son,” comes the voice of Kind Regis, “Sorry to keep you waiting, son.”

“S’alright,” Noct says.

Prompto freezes in the doorway before the King is actually visible and Noct has to give him a borderline rough yank to get him over the threshold.

Rosie doesn’t have the same qualms at all, pushing in past their legs and racing into the room, tail wagging a mile a minute.

“There’s my special girl,” the King coos at her, “All recovered are we?”

“Don’t give her a biscuit,” Noct says hastily, “Her mouth is still all messed up.”

“I’m not an idiot, Noct,” Regis sighs.

Prompto’s surprised to see, when they finally get close enough for the King to be in view, that Regis has Rosie all but in his lap, front legs resting on his chair as she nuzzles into his neck and pets her so that he’s essentially embracing her.

“Ah, Prompto my boy, it’s so wonderful to see you at last,” Regis says, giving Rosie one last pet so he can stand. She circles around his chair and sits perfectly to one side of his desk, nose practically pressed against a drawer.

“Not today, Rosie,” Noct says and she gives a faint whine before obediently trotting over to a plush couch in the corner of the room and hopping up with a huff.

Prompto’s so distracted by this he manages to forget to greet the King.

“Sorry,” he says hastily, “Um, thank you, Your majesty.”

Noct rolls his eyes but Regis tuts with absolutely zero heat behind it.

“I thought I told you formalities weren’t necessary,” Regis reminds him.

“He still calls Clarus Mr Amicitia sometimes,” Noct points out.

“It’s _respectful_ ,” Prompto enthuses.

Noct and his father have very similar laughs and it’s cute. Prompto will definitely tease Noct about it later.

“Now, are you both all packed for your trip this weekend?” Regis asks.

“Iggy’s handling it,” Noct says, “And not because I won’t do it but because he doesn’t trust me.”

Regis gives a fond chuckle.

“And you, Prompto?”

“Mostly done,” Prompto admits, “But all my stuff is kind of all over the place so it’s been a struggle to get it all in one place.”

“You gotta just move in to Gladio’s already,” Noct says, “I’m sure it would make Rosie happy.”

Prompto too, but that's besides the point.

“ _Noct_ ,” Prompto complains.

Noct pulls a dumb face.

“I wanted to thank you, Prompto,” Regis says then surprising them, “Clarus gave me this lovely picture of the Citadel and I believe it’s your work I've been enjoying so much.”

Regis walks over to a fancy cabinet underneath his wide window and Prompto follows numbly only to be shown a mismatched collection of picture frames filled with an assortment of images.

There’s plenty of young Noct - and Iggy and Gladio too - a picture of five men standing around a classic looking car, three of them obviously recognisable, but also images of Insomnia landmarks and, presumably, Lucian nature.

Nestled amongst them is the shot of the Citadel Prompto took before his friendship with Noct became a thing. Prompto had given Clarus a copy of that picture not even two weeks ago. Now he knows why.

“It’s remarkable,” Regis tells him sincerely, “I’ve never seen it looking quite like this.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” Prompto says.

Regis gives his shoulder a warm squeeze.

Behind them Noct give a low yell laugh and Prompto and the King turn simultaneously to see Noct flat on his back with Rosie clambering on top of him trying to lick his chin.

\- - -

From: Vyv Dorden(vdorden@meteorpublishing.org)

To: Prompto Argentum (p.argentum@insomniauniversity.edu)

CC: Personel (personel@meteorpublishing.org)

Art and Media (artmedia@meteorpublishing.org)

17/06/757 16:37

Hey Prompto,

Thanks for the update email.

looking at your list of destinations I’d in particular love a

shot at the top of Ravatogh - you’ll know what I’m looking for as

soon as you see it. I’ll get our media team to forward you a list

of buildings and reference points in Lestallum that would be

particularly useful. As for everything else we’ll set up a meeting

when you’re back and I’ll look through everything you’ve taken. I’m

sure you’ll get some interesting stuff we’d love to use.

Let me know if you’ve got an issues/questions/concerns.

Enjoy your vacation!

Vyv

\- - -

“I haven’t slept here since - shit, forever,” Gladio says, kicking Prompto’s front door closed behind him.

He sounds strangely nostalgic.

“Since we got Rosie,” Prompto says, “You can’t _miss_ it.”

Gladio shrugs, “This is where we first were anything.”

Prompto dumps the two days of mail he picked off the floor onto the counter and rushes to Gladio’s side to go up on tip toes for a kiss. The curiosity over an unexpected package evaporating immediately.

Gladio holds his hips with his hands to hold him still and really kiss Prompto properly.

“Is it for the trip?” Gladio asks.

“Huh?” Prompto mumbles stretching up for another taste of Gladio’s mouth because nothing else feels important.

Gladio indulges him, of course, but then pulls away with a low chuckle.

“The package,” Gladio says, “Is it for the trip?”

“Oh, I don’t actually remember ordering anything,” Prompto says, but he takes a small step back so he can seize it again.

“Noct?” Gladio says.

That would be a pretty Noct thing to do, order Prompto something and not tell him about it so he can can try and get away with it without argument.

Prompto tears open the top and peers inside -

Blushing red he quickly tucks it behind him out of view. Which is a dumb move because Gladio is immediately intrigued.

“Baby?”

“It’s not from Noct,” Prompto says quickly. Definitely not from Noct.

“Well what is it?” Gladio says and he tries to reach behind Prompto to grab it but Prompto dances out of his hold.

“So it was supposed to be for your birthday - but it got super delayed and I ended up just cancelling it. They must have sent it by mistake because I already got a refund.”

It’s been _literally_ months now, Prompto doesn’t know how they messed up so badly.

“Well hand it over then?” Gladio says holding out his hand.

“Well it’s not - I mean I’m sure you’d look _great_ but it totally won't fit you,” Prompto stammers nervously - wonders how he ever would have gone through with it in the first place.

Gladio’s hand and jaw drops.

“Prom,” he croaks, “You gotta - I mean,” Gladio clears his throat, “If you don’t want to _don’t_ but I am now _dying_ to see you in _whatever_ that is.”

Prompto licks over his lips.

It can’t be different than Gladio seeing him naked - should be easier, right? Because at least he’ll be covered. Even if its just by lace a sheer black fabric.

Prompto _likes_ the way Gladio looks at him.

“Okay,” Prompto breathes.

Gladio’s swallow is audible from across the room.

Prompto’s suddenly super glad they left Rosie at the manor tonight and didn’t try to get away with sneaking her into his apartment.

“Should we pack up my stuff first or -?”

“After,” Gladio bites out, “Do you need my help to get into it?”

Prompto shakes his head, “It’s just - it’s really simple.”

Gladio strides over to him to take hold of his jaw and kiss him hard, breath ragged. Prompto almost drops the package trying to get a hold of Gladio’s shoulders and return the level of fervour.

“I didn’t - didn’t know you’d be _this_ enthusiastic,” Prompto whispers.

“Neither did I,” Gladio admits, “But you’re so beautiful -”

Prompto surges up to kiss Gladio again and cut off any further praise because having to listen Gladio complement him might just make him lose his nerve or drop straight down onto his knees to worship his cock.

Either or.

Giving Gladio a gentle push towards the couch Prompto tells, “Get comfortable or something and I’ll, uh - be right back.”

Prompto rushes off to his bathroom without letting Gladio say anything else.

The light flickers as it comes to life and Prompto sets the package down in the sink before stripping down to his underwear.

All he’d ordered were a pair of sheer black stockings with a thick band of lace at the top and a matching pair of lace panties. There had been too many things to choose from on the website and he’d chickened out from ordering anything for his top half - overwhelmed and maybe a little intimidated.

Prompto pulls the stockings out, unfurling them carefully. At first he tries to put it on by just lifting one foot where he stands but he ends up almost falling over and having to hop around to regain balance. He rights himself by grabbing on to the sink, sending his container of hair wax clattering to the ground.

“Prom?” Gladio calls, muffled through the door.

“I’m fine,” Prompto yells back but blushing with embarrassment even though Gladio couldn’t actually see him.

Popping the toilet seat down Prompto tries again, carefully manipulating the fabric so it’s a short cylinder that Prompto can slide fairly easily up from his toes to his upper thigh.

Prompto has to reach into his boxers and adjust is dick.

It feels _really_ nice. They’re not even particularly expensive but the fabric feels soft and pleasant against his skin, the sheerness of the fabric creating shadows around the musculature of his thigh and Prompto can tell they it looks _good_ even without standing up.

When Prompto runs his hands over it he finds he even like the _noise_. It's very specific and Prompto can't really place what it reminds him of but having it on his body is oddly exciting.

Eagerly now Prompto slides on the second one, standing to adjusts the bands of lace so they're even. Silently he thanks whatever witchcraft keeps them up without the need for a complicated suspender belt.

The image, when Prompto manages to get a good view in his small bathroom mirror, is somewhat ruined by the cotton of his boxer briefs, even when he tucks them up to the very top of his thigh so Prompto takes a deep breath and pushes them down, kicking them away to the corner of the room with a flick of his ankle and reaches for the panties.

It probably would have been easier had Prompto managed to get through this without starting to get hard - but Prompto _feels_ good and Gladio’s right out there _getting comfortable_ and waiting for him. It takes him longer than it probably should to get his dick into them in a way Prompto doesn’t hate, doesn't ruin the silhouette, but eventually he manages it.

The dark lace looks almost startling against his skin, fine and intricate and elasticated so it sits tight up against his flesh so Prompto is _aware_ that they’re there even when he’s not looking at them.

Prompto twists to look in the mirror and arching his back so he can see the way they cut in against the swell of his ass.

His breath feels oddly short, like he’s just run a couple miles or his body is a couple steps ahead and thinks he’s already riding Gladio into oblivion on his bed.

Prompto’s eager and excited but still pushes the door open slowly because _what if_?

What if Gladio is disappointed? Or he decides he doesn’t like it after all when Prompto feels so good?

 _What if_?

Gladio’s turned off the main light but flicked on the lamp beside his bed, turning it round the soft light floods Prompto’s little apartment and Gladio -

Gladio definitely made himself comfortable.

He’s naked on Prompto’s couch, legs spread wide as he slowly strokes over his cock, which seems, to Prompto’s expert eye, fully hard.

“Fucking _Astrals_ baby,” Gladio groans when Prompto has stepped into view.

Gladio tongues peeks out to wet his bottom lip and Prompto follows the movement with his eyes. Gladio blatantly stares at the lower half of Prompto's body, eyes roving across the length of his legs and Prompto feels his dick jump at the _desire_ he senses.

Prompto straightens his spine, confidence building as he realises that Gladio _cannot_ look away from him.

Playfully Prompto does a half turn as he steps right in front of his boyfriend so his ass is facing Gladio, bending one of his legs to lift it slightly behind him.

“You like?” Prompto asks, blinking at Gladio over his shoulder.

Gladio actually jumps, eyes darting up to Prompto’s face as he flushes a little guiltily.

“You have no idea,” Gladio manages in a rough voice.

Prompto twists back around and takes a full step forward so he’s between Gladio’s spread thighs. Smirking he bends himself forwards, right down until his head is low enough to take the tip of Gladio’s dick in his mouth. Gladio’s hips jerk but Prompto was expecting it, mouth spread wide to accommodate, sighing when the edge of Gladio’s fist brushes against his mouth.

“I love you,” Gladio blurts, hand coming to rest between Prompto’s shoulder blades, fingers spread wide like he’s trying to touch as much of him as possible. Prompto _would_ laugh but he’s a little busy.

Prompto dips down further, tapping Gladio’s hand to get it out of the way and as he bends deeper Gladio’s hand travels up the length of his spine until his fingers are brushing against the edge of dark lace. His other hand tangles softly into Prompto’s hair.

Gladio only lets Prompto work for a few minutes before he laughs and says, “Okay, okay, enough,” sounding right on the edge of delirium as he steers Prompto gently off his dick.

Gladio cups his jaw and brushes his thumb across Prompto’s mouth which already feels damp, lips swollen.

“Stand up for me?” Gladio asks.

Prompto does and Gladio sits up a little to easily grip Prompto’s hips and tug him another half step closer. Gladio nuzzles against Prompto’s belly a few inches from his navel and Prompto giggles softly at the feeling. Gladio grins against him, fingers playfully snapping the top band of Prompto’s panties.

Gladio’s hands smooth around the curve of his ass and down his thighs, palms lingering in the inches of skin between the top of the stockings and the edge of his underwear. Gladio kisses along the top edge of the lace, breath hot against Prompto’s skin, dropping a few lingering presses to Prompto’s engorged flesh, trapped beneath the filigree.

One of Gladio’s thumbs presses hard into the divot of Prompto’s hip and he cries out into the room, head tossed back.

“You’re so beautiful,” Gladio says, “Your fucking legs are phenomenal.”

“Can I - I’ll go grab the lube?”

Gladio laughs, a dark rumble that makes the hair on Prompto’s arms stand on end.

“Already got it,” he says, giving Prompto’s hip a firm pat, “Turn around.”

Prompto does but when he tries to reach for the panties Gladio grips his hands and pushes them away. The underwear is stretchy enough that Gladio manages to move the fabric out of the way so when he presses Prompto forward to bend at the waist again Gladio's able to spread Prompto’s cheeks apart and lick across his hole.

“Nngh.”

Gladio gives another low chuckle.

“Can’t believe you hought I could resist this when you got all dressed up for me.”

Prompto can only moan and try to brace his legs enough to stop from toppling over when Gladio’s beard rubs roughly against his inner thigh.

Gladio feasts at him like he never quite has before, efficient and relentless and when Prompto’s knees start to shake Gladio doesn’t release him or push him onto the couch, just hooks one arm around Prompto’s thighs and hauls him so his legs are pressed almost right up against Gladio’s chest so he's held up as he continues to eat him out.

Thankfully this all distracts Gladio enough that when Prompto’s almost at breaking point and _has_ to adjust his underwear so it’s hooked under his balls to give his cock some breathing room Gladio doesn’t see to notice.

Gladio’s hand snakes up between Prompto thighs, creeping up until Gladio’s able to use one thumb to tug almost cruelly at Prompto’s rim.

“Gladio,” Prompto cries, “Please - I need - _please_.”

Gladio doesn’t stop but his hand retreats momentarily, the click of the lube bottle the only hint Prompto gets before fingers press teasingly against his hole.

Gladio has to pull his mouth away to work his fingers in, but he continues to hold Prompto’s trembling form close, panting harshly into the sensitive skin on the back of Prompto’s thighs.

Prompto takes the first two fingers easily, already relaxed and worked open from Gladio's mouth and relishing the familiar stretch and feeling of Gladio finally, in some way, inside of him.

“So good,” Gladio murmurs, “Always open up so prettily for me.”

“Please,” Prompto murmurs again, unable to handle anything more.

Gladio shushes him as a third finger is added and Prompto jerks, crying out again and they're moved almost roughly inside of him.

“Okay,” Gladio says roughly, “Okay. You think you can ride me?”

“Yes,” Prompto says, “Yes, yes. Now.”

Gladio pulls away at last, rough biting kisses dotted around the curve of his ass.

“Like this,” Gladio all but demands, “So I can see.”

Usually when Gladio talks about looking he wants to watch Prompto’s face as he’s taken but _sometimes_ what he wants is a close up view of the way his cock splits him apart.

“ _Now_ ,” Prompto repeats.

Gladio pulls back fully, leaving Prompto shivering, to readjust on the couch. Prompto hears the lube cap click again and then a hand is gently touching his thigh, encouraging him down. Gladio’s legs are spread wide so Prompto keeps his own pressed close together, relying on Gladio’s guidance to find his target.

As soon as Gladio’s head his lodged at his entrance Gladio’s hand comes up to Prompto’s ass, pulling one of his cheeks to the side, finger all caught up in the lace stretched taught. Prompto goes along with the consistent pressure to his thigh, sinking down slowly, steadily until his ass meets Gladio’s pelvis - back arched to give Gladio the best view he can.

Gladio’s groan largely overshadows the faint whine Prompto expels the first time he rolls his hips, slapping his hands down onto Gladio’s thighs and gripping on tight to brace himself. Gladio tries to help by taking a firm hold of his hip but the firm squeeze just makes Prompto jerk and moan.

Prompto rides him slowly, barely lifting off Gladio’s thighs at all, just enjoying the hot, pulsing pressure of his boyfriend splitting him wide open and reaching impossibly deep into his core.

Gladio’s hand suddenly reaches around for Prompto’s chest, pulling him back so he collapses bonelessly against Gladio with his cock still lodged inside him, feet leaving the ground. Gladio yanks Prompto’s legs apart roughly, left hand slipping on the sheer fabric covered thigh until fingers manage to twist into it and use it as leverage to rock Prompto down onto his sudden, pounding upward thrusts.

For a second the panties are pulled so taught they cut into Prompto’s skins with a delicious hint of pain. But then Gladio wrenches his thighs further apart and Prompto feels as much as he hears the faint rending of the fabric as some of the stitched fail.

“Fu-uck,” Prompto grits out as Gladio picks up his pace, fucking up into Prompto with fast shallow thrusts which, while the best he can surely manage in his current position, shouldn’t be enough to get either of them off but they _are_.

Gladio presses his forehead to Prompto’s shoulder, a stream of mumbled praise reaching Prompto’s ears as one hand scrambles for Prompto’s dick, taking it in hand and moving it in tandem with the way Prompto’s hips shift into and away from Gladio’s, chasing his pleasure.

“Come on,” Prompto begs, “Please, please.”

Prompto’s not sure what he’s asking for, whether the desperation stems from his own need to cross over the edge or if he simply needs to feel Gladio explode inside him.

Gladio decides for him, fist tightening around Prompto’s length at the exact moment teeth press bluntly into the fleshy part of his shoulder and Prompto’s vision blurs at the edges, everything but the feeling of Gladio’s hand and dick and teeth fading so far into the background they cease to exist at all.

Gladio catches Prompto’s other leg just under the back of his knee to hold him completely steady and still against his chest, thrusts rough and off rhythm now Gladio can focus on nothing but his own orgasm.

Prompto gives a soft cry when Gladio's come floods into him, pressing down with his hips as best he can in Gladio’s hold keep his boyfriend securely inside him.

When Gladio lets Prompto's legs down he continues to grind against Gladio, just a tiny barely there roll of his hips, keeping it up until Gladio wraps both his arms around Prompto’s hips to stop him with a soft laugh.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Gladio grumbles, “Beautiful, beautiful man.”

Prompto’s probably already red so any extra colour in his face won’t be noticeable.

“Hypocrite,” Prompto teases back.

Prompto flinches when Gladio’s hands touch the inside of his thigh then, but all Gladio does is carefully rearrange Prompto’s underwear so it lays flat and smooth again, tucking Prompto’s softening dick safely beneath the dark fabric. Slowly, but with astonishing ease, Gladio hooks both of Prompto’s knees over one of his arms to lift Prompto up and off his dick, hastily putting him down so he can adjust the panties _again_ , covering up his ass too.

Gladio settles them down, wrapping strong arms around Prompto’s frame even as Prompto feels the panties turn messy and sticky with their combined release. Even without the busted seams Prompto thinks they might have ruined them beyond repair on their premier outing.

Prompto groans suddenly.

“I’ll buy you more,” Gladio promises, like he’s reading Prompto’s mind, “Every colour, every style.”

Normally Prompto blanches at the idea of being spoilt but this time it doesn’t feel so bad.

“Sure,” Prompto agrees, “But that’s not even my problem.”

Gladio kisses his hair, “What is it then?”

“I still need to pack.”

\- - -

Noct had told Prompto that the Regalia was the most beautiful car in the world and Prompto hadn’t really _cared_ because a car is a car to him and he’d just wanted to make sure it was definitely big enough for the four of them plus Rosie.

Prompto drops his duffel to the ground and fumbles for his camera as Iggy pulls the sleek, _gorgeous_ vehicle to a stop at the bottom of the Citadel’s grand staircase.

They’d bid the King farewell inside, not wanting to cause a spectacle out here and potentially draw the press when their road trip is _supposed_ to be discrete for security purposes but Clarus and Iris are stood by, waiting to see them off.

“I think you converted him,” Gladio says to Noct as Prompto snaps away.

Once the car is completely stationary Prompto has the very real pleasure of watching the the roof fold itself down and away in a perfectly engineered sequence that has Prompto’s mouth dropping open in awe.

Noct taps his chin and Prompto shuts his mouth with an audible snap.

“Told you,” Noct says.

“It’s just -” Prompto walks down the last few steps so he can circle around it, “I didn’t know cars could look like _this._ ”

“Only this car can,” Ignis says, “The Regalia - only one of it's kind in the world. Made exclusively for His Majesty some twenty-five years ago.”

 _Wow_ , Prompto mouths backing away enough to get a good shot of the details and decals on the front.

“It’ll be with you for the whole trip,” Clarus calls, laughing a little.

Prompto nods but he has to take one last shot before jogging back over to the group.

He arrives in time to hear Noct ask, “ - saw Nyx, right?”

“Indeed,” Ignis assures him, “And besides, it’s only two and a half weeks. We’ll have our phones.”

Ignis sounds sure but Prompto remembers Ignis telling him that Nyx is the only person that he ever really misses and hopes that it genuinely won’t be hard for him.

“Trunk open?” Gladio asks Ignis and when he nods Gladio gathers up his, Prompto's _and_ Noct’s bags to take over to the car. They’ve all packed light, _had_ to pack light really, when they need trunk space enough for four people's luggage and as well as all the camping equipment necessary for them along with everything Rosie might need.

“Right,” Clarus says when Gladio’s returned, “Be careful, keep your phones charged, stay _together_ -”

“Dad,” Gladio interrupts, “You briefed me first thing I can handle it.”

“This morning I was your superior,” Clarus says, “Right now I’m your father.”

Gladio rolls his eyes but his expression has softened.

“Make sure you stay hydrated,” Clarus goes on, “Don’t drink _too_ much alcohol and remember to wear sunscreen, please.”

That last point seems to be aimed almost exclusively at Prompto and he would be offended but Clarus is only looking out for him. Plus Iggy had taken him through all the precautions he has in place to keep Prompto’s skin safe, so they must be on to something that Prompto doesn't get.

“We’ll keep on top of it,” Gladio promises.

“One last thing then,” Clarus says seriously, “Have a fantastic time.”

Gladio smiles begrudgingly and when his dad holds out his arms for a hug he steps into them and they embrace briefly, Clarus clapping Gladio on the back and looking frighteningly proud.

Prompto gets hugs too, first from Iris while Clarus is saying goodbye to Noct and Iggy - Prompto kisses her head as they separate and promises to send her pictures of a rare flower she asked him to look out for - and then from Clarus himself, unexpectedly being swept up into a short embrace where Clarus ruffles his hair for the second time in his life and says quietly, just to him, to please look after himself.

“We’ll see you when you’re back,” Clarus promises.

They climb into the car, Noct in his designate seat with Ignis in front.

Noct leaves his door open and encourages Rosie into the car by patting his lap and she hops in happily, exploring the available space before flopping onto the centre seat with her head on Noct’s lap.

It’ll be a squeeze back there, for sure, but to bring a second car meant the addition of either _two_ extra security staff or Prompto managing to get a driving licence astonishingly fast and then being responsible for driving he and Rosie everywhere.

Prompto would have done it, ability to pass a driving test permitted, but nobody particularly liked the idea of Prompto being apart from them for so much of the trip.

“You want the front?” Prompto offers but Gladio just shakes his head and opens the passenger door for Prompto, ushering him in. Gladio closes the door and bends to kiss Prompto’s head.

“We’ll switch when we stop for the bathroom in Leide,” Gladio says.

They actually look pretty cosy in the back, Prompto thinks, once Rosie’s resettled herself with limbs on both Noct and Gladio’s laps. They have a little harness for her that clips into the seatbelt, not because they really think she _will_ try and jump out of the car but just because with Rosie, you can never quite be _sure_.

As Iggy pulls away Prompto turns to wave at Iris and Clarus watching from the steps until they’re out of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I AU my own AU and write a one-shot where Cor and Monica bring little-Prompto back to Insomnia and co-parent the shit out of him? Which also, ahhh, timeline wise they rescue Prompto just after Noct has his accident and ends up in a wheelchair - little mini Prompto and Noct being the best of friends *cries*.  
> Working on some other stuff for a thing that may or may not work out so next chapter might be a little slower. We're in for a revelation you guys, just you wait.


	13. Liege of the Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto finally meets a chocobo. Noct fishes Lucis dry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait you guys! I did a couple ship-weeks and then some personal stuff cropped up. I’m all good, nothing to worry about, just life. All steam ahead for this though, we’re getting her done and ready for the sequel.

Despite stopping twice so Rosie can have a run around and Noctis can buy snacks they make it down the long road to Galdin Quay by mid-afternoon. The sun’s still high in the sky but just starting to wane and even so Prompto thinks he can _feel_ it burning his skin and darkening his freckles.

They unpack the car and check-in quickly before making their way along the wooden walkway leading out of the hotel and back to the beach. A couple people turn to look at them as they pass but Prompto doesn’t know if that can be put down to Noctis or the fact they have Rosie with them. They’ve got her leashed for now, an easy concession for them to make considering it was the _only_ thing the expensive resort asked of them when they’d waived their strict no pet policy as Noct's request.

Prompto doesn't really like Noct using his royal influence for his benefit, but _just_ this once.

Rosie doesn’t seem to mind, she never does, usually walking close to their side whether she’s leashed or not. Unless there’s a ball involved, of course, she will _always_ run to catch anything thrown for her.

Rosie pulls a little as they approach the sand though, excited with bouncy steps but when they get to the very edge of the parking lot that drops away onto the sand she stops with her feet right at the edge and peers down at the golden sand spread before them.

And barks.

“We should have taken her to a sand pit,” Prompto jokes as he pets her head. She looks up at him with her happy dog smile, tail wagging so fast it moves her whole butt.

“I think she’s just excited,” Gladio says stepping down onto the sand. Rosie jerks like she wants to follow but looks up at Prompto uncertainly.

“Can I let her off the leash now?” Prompto checks with Ignis.

“Of course,” Ignis says, “Give her a chance to let out some energy.”

Prompto unclasps her leash and gives her haunch an encouraging pat. She carefully places one of her paws onto the sand and the hops back, spinning in a short circle before barking at it again.

Gladio takes a few steps further into the sand and tries to encourage her over.

She barks.

Prompto laughs and beside him Ignis presses his hand over his mouth.

Noct reaches to scratch behind her ears and she whips around to face him, trying to lick his fingers.

“You’re a brave girl aren’t you Rosie?” Noct coos scratching her chin, “You’re going to come with me, right?”

And he takes off across the sand, Rosie hot on his heels.

She follows for a dozen paces and then seems to realise what’s happening, skidding to a halt in an avalanche of flying sand. Noct spins around laughing as Rosie starts to ferociously _dig_ down into the sand with her front paws. She snaps up a clump in her mouth and then immediately drops it again just to stamp it flat with her paws.

“Alright, alright,” Gladio laughs as she starts digging again.

“Rosie,” Prompto calls to distract her and she pauses her digging, hole almost as deep as her legs already, “Want to go for a _walk_ Rosie?”

She jumps up at once running a circle around all four of them, spread out as they are and then comes to settle by Gladio’s legs. Prompto would be upset to second best to anyone but Gladio.

“There’s a fishing pier,” Noct says as they head of across the sand, ambling closer to the water.

“Tomorrow,” Ignis says, “For today its a nice walk and then dinner.”

“I know, I know,” Noct mumbles, “I was just _saying_.”

-

Ignis offers to cook but they convince him round to room service instead and Prompto throws open the balcony doors and sits outside on their little deck with Rosie at his side, napping with her head on his thigh. Prompto peers out at the almost endless water through the gaps in the railing.

Honestly - he’s a little overwhelmed.

Nobody ever mentioned Prompto paying a thing, of course, and he’s sure the Crown is footing the bill; that Ignis and Gladio are here for Noct’s protection and Prompto’s presence is barely a blip on their financial radar but -

Prompto looked up how much a three night stay in this room costs and it would take him almost _four_ months to earn it. And they’re doing it _twice._ Plus three nights in Lestallum and a couple of other motels along the way.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable on one of the chairs?” Gladio asks.

Prompto cranes his head back to see his boyfriend leaning in the open doorway, smiling fondly down at him.

“I wanted to sit with Rosie,” Prompto says simply.

Gladio comes out onto the deck and lowers himself down, half behind him with one knee bent at Prompto’s back to support him and the other long his side. Gladio’s arms come around him, warm and stabilising and Prompto leans back into him with a sigh.

Gladio kisses his temple and reaches across to scratch Rosie’s head - she gives an almost lazy thump of her tail.

“Hey,” Gladio says.

“Hmm.”

“I can tell you’re all in your head about something. So just to remind you: I love you.”

Prompto inhales, the words causing a lump to form in his throat like they still so often do.

“I love you, too.”

“Food in about twenty,” Noct’s voice says suddenly.

Prompto starts to turn his head towards the door again but Noct’s boots tap across the deck and then he’s at Prompto’s other side, right beside Rosie. He buries his hand into the fur on her belly and she shifts over to he can rub it properly.

“You alright?” Noct asks quietly. Prompto shrugs. Gladio nuzzles his hairline.

“Why are we sitting on the floor?” Ignis asks then but he doesn’t try and move them just comes around to sit with them, back against the railing with his legs crossed elegantly in front of them.

“Prom’s having a crisis,” Noct says.

“I am _not_ ,” Prompto argues and then bites his lip.

“Has the long journey unsettled you?” Ignis asks kindly.

“No,” Prompto says, “No - I kind of like being in the car really. It’s just -” Prompto sighs.

“Nothing compared to coming over from Gralea, right?” Noct asks.

“The Regalia is three-thousand times nicer than the coach and the train and the boat, yeah,” Prompto agrees.

Gladio’s hand rubs up his back and Prompto ducks his head but manages to admit, “I shouldn’t _be_ here, should I?”

“What?” Gladio rumbles.

“Of course you should,” Noct says at once.

“But if I wasn’t friends with you, Noct, or, y’know _with_ Gladio then there’s no way I could _ever_ -”

“Prompto,” Ignis interrupts, “We all benefit from our relationship with Noctis - and I’d like you to be under no illusions that if it wasn’t for the opportunity afforded to me as a child I would never be able to afford a stay in a place like this either.”

“Yeah, but -”

“No buts,” Gladio says, “You deserve to be here as much as the rest of us.”

Prompto absolutely does not believe them.

“I didn’t earn it,” Prompto says quietly.

Noct snorts, “And I did?”

Prompto leans back into Gladio’s hold, head tilted back against his shoulder to stare up at the sky.

“It’s not the same,” Prompto says weakly.

Noct clears his throat and then his fingers tap across Prompto’s forearm, near the edge of the wristband covering his barcode.

“You don’t know what it was like for me before you came along,” Noct says quietly, “I just - please try to believe that you deserve to be here, not least of all because I _need_ you to be.”

Prompto turns to look at his best-friend as the words settle over him.

“I’ll try,” he says.

Noct hooks his pinky finger around Prompto’s and raises them slightly, “Promise?”

Prompto laughs and gives Noct’s hand a little tug, “Promise.”

\- - -

“Here,” Noct says pulling a black cap down over Prompto’s hair so the peak is shielding his face.

“My _hair_ ,” Prompto whines.

Ignis chuckles and says, “Try to be more worried about your face, please.”

Which is _fair_ because he and Gladio had taken Rosie for a stroll along the boardwalk this morning and even though Prompto had covered his face with sun lotion he’d come back with distinctly pink cheeks just from the _morning_ sun.

Gladio comes back in from a trip to the local pharmacy with a small bag in hand, Rosie stirs from her nap on Prompto and Gladio’s bed to lazily lick his arm when he sits beside her.

“So they had one labelled _50+_ ,” Gladio says, pulling out a fresh bottle, “And they had hats so we can go get you one of your own because Noct will need his by the water.”

Prompto looks down at the bottle and groans.

“That’s for _babies_ ,” Prompto complains.

“Mhm, and you have that baby soft barely seen the sun skin that I’m personally partial too so we’re going to take care of it,” Gladio says.

“I thought what I’d procured would be adequate,” Ignis says regretfully, “My apologies.”

Gladio pats his thigh and Prompto begrudgingly plops down on his lap as he pops the cap and the chemically-coconut scent hits his nose.

“The stuff you got is more than good enough for you and Noct,” Gladio says, “Prom’s just special.”

Prompto pokes his tongue out but quickly retracts it when Gladio swipes a line of lotion down his nose.

“You have to wear it too,” Prompto reminds him.

Gladio rolls his eyes, “I don’t burn.”

“But you can suffer the sun’s affects all the same,” Ignis says firmly.

Prompto pokes one of the feathers curving around his shoulders, “Think of your _tattoo_.”

Gladio rolls his eyes again but Prompto knows he’ll be covered in lotion too before they get on the boat.

-

Rosie probably likes the boat most of all of them.

Gladio and Noct fish off one side and Prompto wanders for a while taking pictures, Rosie on his heels poking her head through the railing whenever they stop.

“Rosie,” Ignis calls and ever obedient she cuts through the boats cabin in search of Iggy. Prompto finishes off his shot and then ambles around the boat to find him too.

Ignis is pouring a bottle of water into Rosie’s fold out bowl as she laps eagerly at the stream.

“Good thinking,” Prompto says.

“It must be warm for her too,” Ignis points out.

It’s nice - but maybe a little weird - to see Ignis dressed down like this; still in full jeans but his suitcase seems to be full of henley shirts and polos. Prompto suspects you’d have to pry his designer shoes from his cold, dead hands however.

“How are the photographs coming out?” Ignis asks straightening up to let Rosie finish drinking.

“Good, I think. It’s hard when it’s so bright to get balance shots sometimes,” Prompto explains.

Ignis tilts his head, “I always assumed the more light the better.”

“Not at all,” Prompto says eagerly, “Filtered light is better. This can wash everything out.”

“I’m sure His Majesty would appreciate some action shots of Noctis,” Ignis suggests with a smile.

“Oh for sure,” Prompto says, “But I’m waiting until he’s really into it so he doesn’t pull that weird grimace he does whenever he sees a camera.”

Ignis laughs and together they make their way to the other end of the boat, Rosie lapping up the last of her water before following behind them.

-

Prompto’s got a headache but he’s trying to ignore it. Gladio’s stood strong at his back, hands bracing his upper arms as Prompto attempts to reel in his first fish ever.

“Turn the rod,” Noct advises, gently pushing on his hand so Prompto goes the same direction at the fish, reeling again when he feels the slack.

“Good job, baby,” Gladio praises kissing the back of his neck.

“Woohoo!” Noct cries when Prompto’s fish pops free from the water and he rushes forward to help him scoop it up with their net.

It’s only a small fish, a pretty thing with bright blue scales - inedible Noct tells him - but Ignis retrieves Prompto’s camera and snaps a photo of Prompto posing with the little thing in his hands with the afternoon sun overhead.

“See ya little buddy,” Prompto says as he releases him back into the water before Rosie gets any ideas.

“You wanna try casting?” Gladio asks.

Prompto shakes his head, “I might go sit down inside for a bit.”

“Are you alright?” Gladio checks, sounding a little alarmed, “You’re pink.” He touches Prompto’s cheek with the back of his fingers and frowns.

Noct has a line in the water but he starts to reel it in, “We should head back.”

“No!” Prompto almost yells, “I’m fine, I promise. Don’t stop for me.”

Noct freezes and glances from Prompto to Gladio and back again.

“Are you sure?”

Prompto nods.

“Make sure you have some water,” Ignis says, “Which goes for all of us, actually.”

Prompto promises he will and the goes to sit down in the cabin where Rosie is finally curled up for a nap, sure he’ll be fine if he gets out of the sun for a bit.

-

“M’fine,” Prompto mumbles, chaffing under the scrutiny of three pairs of eyes.

“We’ll have to be more careful tomorrow,” Ignis says but thankfully turns away.

Gladio sits on the edge of the bed and smooths back Prompto’s hair.

“You think you might be sick?”

Prompto shakes his head, pressing his face into the pillow. He certainly _hopes_ not though his stomach suggests it's not a done deal.

“Should he have a cold bath or something?” Noct asks Ignis and Prompto can _hear_ the beginnings of fretfulness in his tone.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Prompto stresses, “You guys should go eat.”

“I’ll stay here,” Gladio says, “Iggy and Noct can bring us back something.”

Prompto pulls his head out of the pillow just enough to glare up at his boyfriend with just one eye.

“I’m staying,” Gladio says firmly.

“Rosie will stay with me,” Prompto points out. She is, bless her, curled up by his feet, staunchly staying by his side since the moment he’d come over all funny disembarking the boat.

Heat _exhaustion_ Ignis had said, rather than the more worrisome heat stroke but Prompto just hopes his headache might ease and his dizziness is gone the next time he tries to stand up. He _is_ hot but not enough he feels compelled to dunk himself in ice water.

“Rosie can’t help you to the bathroom if you feel sick,” Gladio points out. Which is fair, Prompto supposes.

After a little more back and forth Noct is convinced to go to the restaurant in the dining room with just Ignis - Prompto will never forgive himself if they both miss out on the sea food they’ve been so excited for.

When the door closes behind them Prompto shuffles himself back on the bed a little and tugs and Gladio’s arm.

“At least lay down with me,” he says.

Gladio kicks off his shoes and slides onto the bed beside him, keeping a gap between Prompto and the broad expanse of his bare chest. Prompto presses his hands to Gladio’s chest and sighs when fingers return to his hair.

“Come closer,” Prompto murmurs.

“You’re too hot,” Gladio says and then he grins, “Not that that isn’t _always_ true of course.”

Prompto snorts and pinches Gladio’s nipple. Gladio grabs Prompto’s fingers, pulling them up to kiss the tips as he chuckles.

“Try and rest,” Gladio says gently, “You’ll feel better soon.”

\- - -

Prompto feels right as rain the next morning, simply ravenous with the return of his appetite and a general grogginess that’s washed away under a cool shower.

Prompto wakes early owing to dozing most of the afternoon away and Gladio rises with him, Ignis abandoning Noct in their bed just a handful of minutes later. Ignis and Gladio take Rosie for her walk, not wanting Prompto to tires himself out just in case, leaving him to have a shower and then carry out the unenviable task of getting Noct out of bed before the kitchen closes for breakfast.

“Noct,” Prompto cajoles trying to find the edge of the blankets the prince has encased himself in.

“Come on buddy,” Prompto laughs, climbing onto the bed and patting the mound of blankets.

“Nngh,” Noct groans, “Go ‘way.”

“No-oct,” Prompto sing-songs, “I want waffles - come on.”

Prompto finds the edge of a blanket then and manages to pulls it away from Noct’s head, finding him belly down, face in the pillows with his hair in complete disarray. Noct turns his head and cracks one eye open to look up at him.

“You feel better?” he slurs.

“Loads!” Prompto chirps.

“Good. Now lemme sleep,” Noct says trying to bury himself again.

Prompto grabs the blanket and tugs, expecting more resistance than he actually receives and tumbling himself straight off the bed.

There’s a beat where Prompto just lays there on the ground considering the choices that lead him to this moment.

And then Noct starts to laugh.

Prompto giggles, “At least you’re up.”

-

They go exploring the coast after breakfast, Gladio carrying a cooler of Ignis prepared items for a lunch picnic and delving in and out of caves and clambering over the coast as it turns rockier away from the Quay.

Prompto sticks to the shade whenever it’s a available and more rigorously applies sun lotion whenever Ignis reminds him and thankfully when they’re settling down for lunch underneath some scraggy trees on the shoreline the red burn on his shoulders doesn’t seem any worse than the day before.

Prompto _probably_ should have packed some clothes with sleeves but he had not and he's not willing to let anyone else buy him some.

Rosie makes a nuisance of herself when they explore rock pools, chasing the fish through the shallow waters just as Prompto’s lining up a shot. Prompto couldn’t be mad at her if he tried though, listening to her happy bark and snuggling into her damp fur when she presses her body against his.

Gladio holds out a hand and helps Prompto back to his feet, ignoring Noct’s groan of displeasure when he bends to kiss Prompto warmly on the mouth. Noct moves away to where Ignis is inspecting a smaller rock pool.

“I _miss_ you,” Gladio murmurs sounding faintly surprised by his own words.

“I’m right here,” Prompto says.

Gladio nuzzles his cheek and drops a kiss on his nose, “I think I only just realised we’re not going to be _alone_ until we get back to Insomnia.”

Prompto blinks.

“Fuck,” he says, “Oh man.”

Gladio laughs.

“Now you’re getting it.”

\- - -

Ignis drives them to Longwythe's Motel - despite offers from everyone else with a driving licence - where they check into the motel and then spend the day exploring the desert like scrub in this part of Leide before hiking towards Longwythe Peak.

Prompto takes several pictures as they approach, setting up his tripod to take a decent group shot of them all with the mountain behind them.

“I don’t see it,” Prompto admits, tilting his head and squinting as he and Noct try to find the alleged turtle shape in the formation of the rock.

“If I close one eye,” Noct says, “And squint the other -”

“You’re blind so you get to imagine whatever the fuck you want?” Gladio puts in.

Prompto bursts out laughing and Noct turns to chase his laughing shield, Rosie taking chase a moment later when she realises what's happening.

Coming up to Prompto’s side Ignis suggests, “Perhaps a different angle.”

\- - -

Alstor Slough has more fishing spots that Prompto can count but admittedly he’s a little distracted the two days they spend camping there because they’re due at the Chocobo Post next.

Prompto whistles as they set up camp that night, unfolding all the camp chairs as he chimes out the national chocobo anthem. Gladio laughs as he walks past carrying the last of the gear and giving him an affectionate pat on the butt.

“I think you’re _too_ excited,” Noct teases. Awfully smug for a guy currently covered in fish scales.

“What do you mean?” Prompto asks, voice rising.

“I think you love chocobos _too_ much,” Gladio joins in, tossing down Rosie’s out door dog bed.

“What? It’s not like - I don’t like them in a _weird_ way,” Prompto scrambles to say as his boyfriend grins at him.

“There’s no wrong way to love a chocobo,” Noct says reassuringly.

\- - -

Gladio had picked them out a couple's double sleeping back and being snuggled up so close with him each night they’re camping somewhat makes up for sleeping on the ground and being completely without any _alone_ time.

It’s weird.

They’ve never gone this long without having sex before - they’re passed the stage of having to have sex _every_ night they’re together of course but it’s weird to not have the option. Prompto keeps waking up with Gladio’s cock hard against the curve of his ass or rough hands on his hips to push him back from where he’s rutting against Gladio’s thigh in his sleep.

The morning they’re due to head off to _Wiz’s Chocobo Post_ Prompto wakes to hot kisses across his jaw and a warm hand kneading the flesh of his ass.

Prompto moans without thinking, arching up into Gladio’s hold only to be uncharacteristically shushed.

“Shh, Iggy’s up with Rosie but Noct’s still right there,” Gladio rumbles quietly.

Prompto bites his lip as Gladio’s hand slip further around on his ass.

“Don’t tease me,” Prompto whimpers and Gladio noses his jaw up so he’s tilted up perfectly for a languid kiss. Gladio gives his ass one last squeeze and trails his hand out from inside his boxers up to his waist.

Prompto turns more onto his side and presses his hips to Gladio’s, nudging his own arousal up against Gladio’s with a sigh.

“I bet he’d sleep through it,” Prompto mumbles quietly. He skims his hands across Gladio’s torso, pressing his fingers into the definition of Gladio’s chest.

Prompto doesn’t mean it of course, he can’t think of many things worse than having sex with Gladio with Noct _right there_. Prompto is many things, but an exhibitionist is not one of them.

“Soon,” Gladio promises, “I’m sure we can sneak away soon.”

Prompto kisses Gladio again, going lax against him as he tries to let go of his frustration. Gladio pecks his nose when he pulls away and Prompto rolls over onto his back.

“I’m gonna go for a run,” Prompto announces. Something to burn off a little energy.

Gladio looks like he wants to argue - maybe its a little unsafe for Prompto to go off by himself but if he runs along the bank of the lake he’ll mostly be in sight the whole time. They wouldn’t have set up camp here if it wasn’t safe.

“I won’t go far,” Prompto promises searching for the zip on the bag.

“Take Rosie with you,” Gladio suggests.

Prompto nods and works himself free of the sleeping bag.

“You know that means you have to get Noct up, right?” Prompto says rummaging for his exercise clothes.

Gladio sits himself up and glances at the sleeping prince.

“I’m gonna throw him in that damn lake he loves so much.”

-

“I’ll take her,” Noct says, clipping Rosie’s leash to her harness before they open the car door.

“You’ll surely need both hands for petting the birds,” Ignis teases.

A high _kweh_ sounds from somewhere beyond them, quickly echoed by several more.

Rosie makes and inquisitive whine and yeah, Prompto thinks, me too.

“Can we - do we need to check in?” Prompto asks, “Or can we -?”

“Our check in is with the ranch,” Ignis says, “Why don’t you lead the way.”

Prompto perks and swings himself out of the car, Noct following behind quickly with Rosie.

“I wonder if they have babies,” Gladio says to Ignis as they follow.

“ _Babies_ ,” Prompto breathes. Noct laughs at him.

Prompto’s slammed back into a conversation he’d had with Gladio _months_ ago because yeah, the chocobos _smell_. Mostly it’s straw and the greens they eat plus something Prompto doesn’t recognise that’s a little sweet but musty and might be their feathers.

But also. Under everything else.

It definitely smells a little like shit.

Prompto wrinkles his nose and he hears Gladio laughs as his hand rubs warmly across his shoulders. Prompto turns to him and Gladio raises his eyebrows.

“Told you,” Gladio says.

“I still love them,” Prompto argues.

“You think Rosie will feel the same?”

They both look to where she’s with Noct, nose pressed to the ground and following along the edge of the path to where the pens are - the pens _full_ of chocobos. Prompto hops up on his tiptoes, sees a crest of yellow feathers and picks up the pace.

“Welcome boys!” booms a friendly voice.

“Wiz, I presume?” Ignis says, stepping forward to shake his hand.

“That’s me,” he says with a smile and Prompto begrudgingly halts his journey towards the birds, “You’re Ignis.”

“Yes,” Ignis says and then he points at his friends in turn, “Gladio, Prompto and -”

“His Highness,” Wiz says, “Welcome.”

“Noctis is fine,” Noct says looking embarrassed, “Please.”

Wiz beams, “Noctis - and this lovely lady?”

Wiz crouches down and holds out a hand to Rosie who takes a moment to realise there’s something more interesting than the ground to sniff. She gives Wiz one sniff and then licks across his fingers, tail wagging when he scratches under her chin.

“Rosie,” Prompto introduces her, “We _think_ she’ll be alright with the birds.”

“But one of us can stay at the camper with her if she upsets them,” Gladio says.

“She seems lovely enough,” Wiz comments and he must have reached the special spot on Rosie’s chin because her eyes are squinted closed in happiness, “How is she with other animals generally?”

“Great with other dogs,” Gladio says, “And she just lays down for my neighbours cat and lets him chew her ears, so.” Gladio shrugs.

“She’s really gentle,” Prompto adds.

“Only one way to find out.”

Wiz leads them over to the closest pen which, in his words, houses his calmest bird. Prompto’s pretty sure he’s vibrating with excitement as Gladio takes the lead from Noct and together they approach.

At first nothing happens, Rosie to busy sniffing at the ground again, fascinated by what the new smell could possibly be.

Prompto really, _really_ wants to rush forward and stroke along the birds elegant neck himself and finally feel the texture of their feathers but he waits.

But not exactly _patiently_.

Gladio rubs along Rosie's flank so she looks up.

And startles.

She doesn’t make any noise but she hops back a step and stares up at the bird, tail wagging tentatively, brushing along the ground.

The bird clicks her beak and Prompto just about expires. She’s so _beautiful._

Rosie approaches the fence and puts her front paws onto one of the upper rungs, pushing herself up, nose twitching a mile a minute. The chocobo lowers her head to let Rosie sniff at her beak, giving a quiet trill when Rosie licks it.

Wiz laughs, “I think she’s good.”

The chocobo nips gently at Rosie’s ear and she gives a short happy bark before dropping back down onto all four paws and racing back and forth between her companions excitedly.

“Shall I show you to the camper?” Wiz asks and Prompto’s heart sinks.

Later, he tells himself. They’ll be here for two days. He can wait.

“Noct,” Gladio says and he tosses Rosie’s lead to him, “You stay here with Prom and me and Iggy will sort out the stuff.”

Prompto turns to him with wide eyes.

“Go on,” Gladio says, “Go fulfil your life’s wish.”

Prompto laughs, “You don’t mind?”

Gladio kisses his forehead, “Go on.”

Prompto takes a deep breath as he puts his hand on the fence and the chocobo blinks her large black eyes at him. He offers her his hand and she presses her beak into his palm.

A lump rises in his throat.

He remembers being tugged into the side of a kind woman, her soft hands brushing back his hair and a warm voice promising that _one day you can do whatever you want_ as he tries to ask if _he_ could ever ride a chocobo.

How old was he then?

Prompto still has that book, tucked into a box underneath his bed with the tattered plush she’d given him and that first little camera.

When was the last time he’d thought about Maria?

The chocobo leans in towards him and Prompto strokes his fingers down across her neck - _so soft_ \- and leans into her when she hooks her head over his shoulder. Prompto closes his eyes and presses his face into her warm body, inhaling more of that sweet scent.

His shoulders tremble.

“Prom?” Noct says then, hand pressing between his shoulder blades.

Prompto grits his teeth and tries to stay quiet.

“Prom, what is it? It’s okay, do you want me to get Gladio?”

Prompto shakes his head and tries to draw in a breath deep enough to calm down.

He can’t even explain it.

He’s relieved, he thinks. But _sad_ too - that he’d had to give up Maria in the first place.

And he’s _happy_.

He really didn’t ever think he’d get here.

Noct rubs his back and he feels Rosie press her nose to his hip.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, pulling away a little but keeping his back turned. The chocobo trills and her beak brushes against his hair.

“Happy tears, right?” Noct asks and Prompto thinks he’s trying to tease but falling a bit short.

“Sorry,” Prompto says again. He pulls up his second hand to stroke down the chocobos neck on this side too, brushing away some of the dampness he’d left behind.

“What is it?” Noct asks.

Noct quickly ties Rosie’s lead around the top of the fence even though there’s no chance she’s going anywhere with Prompto feeling like this way. Prompto reaches down to stroke her head and let her know how much he appreciates it.

With Rosie secure Noct presses close, front along his side and starts to rub his back again, resting his head on Prompto’s shoulder.

“A lady at one of my foster homes showed me chocobos for the first time.”

Noct makes an encouraging, inquisitive noise.

“She was really great. I really - really thought maybe they’d adopt me. But her husband got transferred at work and I couldn’t go with them so…”

“You went back to the home,” Noct finishes.

“Yeah.” Prompto strokes through soft feathers again.

“They really missed out,” Noct says.

“She was from Insomnia - Maria. She told me all about Lucis, made me want to come here,” Prompto says.

“Well I’m a fan of her,” Noct says, humour returning.

Prompto laughs, “Yeah. Sorry. I just hadn’t thought about that for a long time. I don’t know why I’m so upset.”

Noct gives him a squeeze, “Don’t be sorry.”

Noct doesn't hurry him for more words or try and move him away to a different pen, just stands with Prompto as he slowly gets his fill.

Fulfils his life's wish, as Gladio said.

“They’ve got babies,” Gladio says suddenly from behind them, “And the camper looks comfy enough.”

Noct pulls free and says, “Cool - you think Rosie can play with the babies too?”

Prompto scrubs over his face with his arm and sniffs back the last of his feelings. Relatively easy to do, Prompto finds with his best friend right there and his boyfriend ready to take him to see chocobo chicks.

“Wiz says we can try,” Gladio says but his voice is distracted, “Prom?”

“I wanna see the babies,” Prompto says brightly, turning to face Gladio while Noct unties Rosie’s leash.

“What’s wrong?” Gladio asks. He closes the short gap between then and raises his hand to cup Prompto’s cheek, thumb chasing away a little wetness Prompto had missed.

Prompto shakes his head, “Just memories. I’m fine.”

Gladio doesn’t look convinced and he glances at Noct but apparently finds nothing there to appease him.

“Baby chocobos will make me feel better,” Prompto says with more genuine enthusiasm in his tone.

Gladio kisses his forehead and takes his hand.

“What do you think Rosie, you like the tiny ones too?”

-

Rosie _loves_ the tiny ones.

She drops down onto her belly the moment they’re let into the barn with them, belly crawling along until she’s a few feet away from the babies - holy shit so tiny, so cute - and stays completely still apart from her ever wagging tail. Prompto lowers himself down onto the ground beside her, legs crossed on the straw strewn floor.

Ignis hands him a stalk of greens and immediately three bright yellow balls of feathers start to wobble over to him on their short little legs. Prompto holds the leaf low to the ground and three little beaks assault it tearing off chunks more aggressively than he was expecting.

Prompto laughs as one over balances and falls back onto the ground, Gladio touches the back of his neck.

“If they stayed this small we could definitely get a couple,” Gladio tells him.

“They’re _perfect_ ,” Prompto says.

Noct _gasps_.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs and Prompto tears his eyes away from the fluff ball making it’s way tentatively towards Rosie to see Wiz coming in through a second door, tiny black chocobo cradled in his arms. Noct quickly sets himself down onto the ground at Prompto’s side.

“Have you got your camera, Prompto?” Ignis asks.

Prompto shakes his head, “I left it in the car.” He was planning on taking pictures tomorrow, before _and_ after they’re chocobo ride through the surrounding wilderness.

Today was about _meeting_ them.

The sound of Ignis’ shoes retreating echoes through the barn.

Wiz lowers the chocobo to the ground and it immediately starts hobbling towards the others.

“Have we got more -”

“Here,” Gladio says around a laughs, tossing a leaf of Gyshal Greens at Noct’s head. Noct scrambles for it without complaining and holds it out, staring at the black chocobo with an unexpected amount of focus.

One of the babies _kwarks_ and Prompto looks back to the brave one approaching his dog. It flaps it’s wings and Rosie’s ear twitches. Gladio crouches down and strokes over her back.

“Good girl,” he says quietly.

The baby fluffs up slightly and then flops onto the ground nestled up against Rosie’s head, tucking itself into a _literal_ ball and seemingly going right to sleep, using her ear as a blanket.

Prompto might die of cuteness but it'd be worth it.

Prompto turns to Gladio with wide, pleading eyes.

“Please,” he begs.

Gladio laughs, “Maybe one day.”

Noct makes a noise.

“I know right -” Prompto cuts off as he turns to look at his friend.

The black chocobo shifts about on Noct’s lap before settling down with a small chirp.

“I have been blessed,” Noct says seriously.

Prompto and Gladio laugh but thankfully the chocobos are still all in position when Ignis comes back with his camera.

-

He and Gladio get to curl up in the double bed at one end of the caravan that night, Rosie sleeping in the open doorway, presumably so she can see everyone all at once. Under the cover of blankets he tells Gladio about Maria and how deep the hurt of having to leave her went. Deeper than he’d ever realised.

“Was she the last good one?” Gladio asks.

Prompto’s told him about others before; being kicked out at fifteen when they found out he was gay and the couple that had given him back because sometimes he didn’t sleep through the night.

“I think so,” Prompto says, “But sometimes it all blurs together.”

Gladio scratches his hands into Prompto’s scalp and kisses his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Gladio says.

Prompto laughs a little hollowly, “You didn’t do anything.”

“Still,” Gladio says, “Wish I could go back and change it.”

“But then maybe I’d have been happy in Gralea and never moved for college.”

“Except Maria probably would have encouraged you artistically,” Gladio argues, “And maybe you still would have.”

“Huh,” Prompto says, then teases, “Okay, I’m sad again now.”

Gladio chuckles softly, “Not my intention.”

Prompto shifts his head until his mouth comes into contact with Gladio’s, drawing him in slowly but deeply.

“I love you,” Prompto whispers.

“Love you, too.”

\- - -

Prompto clambers up over some stepped rocks, huffing with exertion as he stands himself upright.

“Please be careful,” Ignis calls. Rosie barks in what sounds like agreement.

“If you fall and die I’ll kill you,” Gladio says.

Prompto laughs and raises his camera, eager to get the shot of the Disc of Cauthess that he’s risking life and limb to get.

Yesterday they’d gone close to the actual disc, down into the earth where temperatures had risen and Prompto had taken close-ups of glittering shards of interesting rock formations. Prompto can’t wait to get to Lestallum and see where it is they process those shards into power - or however it is that works.

It’ll be nice to be in a city again, bustling with people and restaurants and _noise_. Prompto loves the wilds of Lucis just as much as he thought he would but he still wants to see _everything_ and Lestallum has been on his list for longer than he can remember.

Also, if they’re lucky, he and Gladio might be able to sneak a little alone time while they're there.

Prompto loves Noct and Iggy of course but -

Some alone time would be _nice_.

Prompto used to go _months_ without sex so its a little embarrassing to be chomping at the bit for some now after little more than a week.

“Right,” Gladio says, voice a little frayed, “You’re done. Down now please.”

Prompto laughs again and snaps another few pictures before turning to climb back down. Gladio’s waiting for him when he’s almost down, arms outstretched to help him reach the ground. Gladio swings him down and then bends to kiss him and Prompto presses up into the affection eagerly, flipping Noct off when he groans dramatically.

\- - -

Lestallum is _sweltering_ and Prompto can’t blame Gladio for walking around with a bare chest.

Not that he’d _ever_ complain, obviously.

They pull into a parking lot that over looks the Disc and Prompto has to be called away from the barrier taking pictures to grab his bag from the trunk of the car.

“We’ll come back later,” Gladio promises.

“I have that list from Vyv,” Prompto reminds him.

“Sightseeing tomorrow,” Noct says, “Nap today.”

Prompto frowns and asks, “You okay?”

“Just tired,” Noct says then quieter, “My back hurts a little.”

“We’ll do your stretches at the hotel,” Gladio promises, reaching to squeeze Noct’s shoulder, “Don’t keep this stuff to yourself.”

Noct grumbles a little but looks thankful and happily lets Prompto trade Rosie’s leash for Noct’s rucksack, swinging one over each shoulder before Gladio can try and intervene.

“There’s a kitchen in the hotel room,” Ignis says as they cross the road past a noodle truck and an already bustling bar, “But there’s a number of dog friendly establishments in the city if you all don’t mind an evening out.”

“Fine by me,” Prompto says but looks uncertainly at Noct.

“You can have a rest first of course,” Ignis says, “No need to decide now.”

Noct nods, yawning.

-

Gladio lets Noct nap first and the two of them take Rosie for a wander around the City while Ignis stays in the room with Noct catching up with some work emails. Gladio grumbles a little at the idea but Ignis _has_ been pretty good until now, promising to only check in and not actually make himself available to anyone.

He also mentions he might use the opportunity to give Nyx a call and Prompto can't blame him for that.

Prompto keeps forgetting that the other two aren’t _technically_ on vacation at all right now. They're _working_. Though neither of them would ever consider it as such.

Gladio walks with his arm over Prompto’s shoulder, close to his side as they skirt around the busier streets where people are leaving offices at the end of their work day.

“So different to Insomnia,” Prompto muses.

“You thought it’d be like home?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods, “All of Niflheim’s cities look the same so even though I’d seen pictures I though it would at least _feel_ the same. It’s _amazing_.”

Gladio doesn’t say anything, just presses a kiss to his head as they walk. Prompto squints up at him to see an indulgent little smile pulling up his mouth.

“What?” Prompto asks, somehow feeling _teased_ even though no teasing occurred.

“I just love the way you find joy in things other people take for granted,” Gladio says a little sheepishly. He shrugs and adds, “The world needs more of that.”

-

Noct’s exhausted after his stretches so to save Ignis cooking Prompto and Gladio head back out of the hotel to grab food while the prince lays down up on his and Iggy’s bed with Rosie curled up next to him. She's trying to make him feel better by periodically licking his cheek and judging from Noct’s smile it's kind of working.

They order several different things from numerous food stands lining the central plaza and then settle on a low wall to wait for their orders.

It’s still warm out even with the sun slowly setting but Gladio’s regrettably put on a t-shirt now and Prompto silently mourns the loss of his warm skin against his cheek as he rests his head against Gladio’s shoulder. It’s a crime to cover up his tattoo.

Legitimately a crime.

“I might go grab a few beers and sodas and stuff,” Gladio says pointing at a store across the street, “You okay waiting for the food by yourself?”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “I dunno, maybe I’ll get lost sitting completely still.”

“Alright smart ass,” Gladio says, kissing his temple before standing, “I’ll be five minutes.”

Prompto grins at him as he walks away and it’s approximately thirty-five seconds before someone slides into the space he just left.

“Hi there,” says the stranger.

“Uh, hi,” Prompto says offering the man a smile. He’s definitely older than Prompto, probably older than Gladio too, dressed in black pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Prompto assumes he’s stopped off for food on the way back from his office or something.

“Are you new to the city?” he asks, smiling.

“I’m on a vacation with my friends,” Prompto says easily.

“Nice,” he says touching Prompto’s arm and seeming not to care or notice when Prompto inches away from him slightly, “You staying for long.”

“Just a few days,” Prompto tells him.

“If you need someone to show you the sights,” he says touching Prompto’s _thigh_ now, “I know all the best spots,” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder where groups women from the power plant are beginning to gather, “We could go for a drink now, if you like, and I can -”

“Oh, no thank you,” Prompto says.

“Just one drink?” He smiles in what Prompto is sure is supposed to be a disarming way, but Prompto is just _not interested_. Obviously.

“No, really. But thanks for the offer.”

Across the way one of the stands places a full bag onto their counter and waves Prompto over.

“It was nice talking to you,” Prompto mumbles, slipping free from under his hand and gratefully hopping to his feet.

He almost bounces off Gladio’s chest.

“Hi,” he says breathlessly feeling a completely unjustified rush of guilt.

“Hey baby,” Gladio says perhaps a little louder than necessary. He glances over Prompto’s shoulder and then back to him, “Miss me?”

“Of course,” Prompto enthuses, stepping forward to kiss his cheek and just giving into it when Gladio turns his head to catch his mouth instead. Prompto pulls back after a few glorious seconds and Gladio smiles softly down at him, eyes narrowing when they glance over Prompto’s shoulder again.

It takes exactly three seconds for it to click into place.

Gladio isn’t _mad_ at him for talking to the guy.

He’s _jealous_.

Prompto should probably like that less.

He’s not sure anyone’s ever been driven to _jealousy_ before. No one’s ever cared enough to want him all to himself.

“Food’s ready,” Prompto tells him mentally stamping down his desire to drag Gladio down one of the narrow alleyways and drop to his knees.

Gladio smiles again, “Good. They had your favourite soda.”

“Perfect.”

They collect their skewers and rice from the first cart and Prompto doesn’t even spare the guy from before a second glance. When they’ve pressed some notes into the tip jar their curry is ready too and the smorgasbord of sides they ordered from the third truck in the row is ready as soon as they’re done there.

“Lets get these back,” Gladio says and _he_ seems quite recovered even though Prompto’s pulse is racing.

“Hope Noct’s appetite is okay,” Prompto manages to say.

They can’t walk arm in arm or hold hands owing to the sheer amount of food they ordered but Prompto presses as close as he can, the low burning need he’s been carrying around since Galdin suddenly raging to the forefront again.

Noct stirs as soon as they enter the room and Rosie stands to walk to the edge of the bed to greet them. Ignis, of course, comes to grab the food and set about portioning it off.

When he’s sure no one is looking at him Prompto shoves his phone down as far is it’ll go in his pocket and prays the shape of it isn’t noticeable.

“Shit,” he says, trying to sound concerned not _excited_ , “I think I dropped my phone in the plaza.”

“Oh dear,” Ignis says, “Perhaps if we call it -”

“It would have fallen out while we were on the wall,” Prompto says, glancing at Gladio in what he hopes is a meaningful way, “So it’ll be in one of the flower beds.”

Ignis hesitates, frowning just a little and then suggests, “Ah, then it may still be there.”

Prompto nods and ignores the funny look Noct is giving him. To Gladio he asks, “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” Gladio says but he’s generally so sweet it’s impossible to tell if he’s caught on or not.

“I’ll keep the food warm,” Ignis promises.

Out in the hallways Prompto lets them get ten feet before whirling around and shoving Gladio roughly back against the wall. Gladio looks surprised and then _very_ pleased in the few seconds it takes Prompto to lever himself up into his space, secure one hand in his long hair and start kissing him.

Gladio scoots down the wall a little so Prompto can get his hands on him without stretching too far and Prompto ends up straddled over one of his thighs. Prompto licks right into Gladio’s mouth and edges his fingers under his t-shirt to get at the warm skin underneath. Gladio cups his jaw and kisses him back, eager as ever.

Gladio slows them down after a while, mouth moving languidly and then pulling away to peck him one, two, three times.

“You didn’t have to prove anything,” Gladio says, voice a little rough, “I know that you wouldn’t - I’m sorry I got jealous.”

Prompto laughs and tucks his forehead against Gladio’s neck.

“I liked it,” Prompto admits, “At first I thought you were mad but then -”

“I’m used to people looking at you, can’t really blame them -”

“Shut up,” Prompto whines.

Gladio just talks over him, “But I was trapped in that shop watching that guy _touch_ you and I know you’re too polite to tell people to fuck off until you’re really uncomfortable.”

“Sorry,” Prompto says.

“No, don’t be,” Gladio says, “You can do what you want with your body, I don’t own it. I just - I want you all to myself.”

“You have me all to yourself,” Prompto says shifting up to kiss hims again.

Gladio squeezes his waist, “Mine. Kind of.”

“Yours,” Prompto agrees.

They kiss again, Prompto trying _desperately_ not to get himself all worked up out here in the hallway, not wanting to have to go back into their shared room with a boner awkwardly hidden in his jeans.

He inches his hips back to get a little space and Gladio smiles, fingers stroking his hip.

“People don’t look at me,” Prompto argues, wrinkling his nose.

“Of course you don’t notice,” Gladio mumbles shaking his head and inadvertently brushing their noses together. Prompto smiles.

“So I had this thought,” Gladio says, “That I would get us a separate room. But I have to sleep in the same room as Noct and sneaking you off for a couple hours feels obvious and _kind of_ gross.”

Prompto wrinkles his nose again, “I guess we couldn’t be more _obvious_ short of hanging a banner that says ‘we’re going to fuck now.’”

Gladio laughs, “Exactly.”

With his heart slowed closer to normal Prompto feels more comfortable pressing close once more.

“I guess I can wait until we’re home,” Prompto sighs.

“Mhm,” Gladio murmurs, “Think about how great it’ll be. I’m going to spread you out on my bed for _hours_.”

“Yeah?” Prompto breaths, pulse thrumming again.

“Yeah. Gonna make you come every way I can. Hands first and then my mouth. On your ass, of course,” Gladio add idly, “Because I know how much you like it even though you never ask for it.”

Prompto swallows and Gladio pulls his bottom lip free from his teeth with a truly feral smile on his face.

“Then I’m going to split you open on my cock. Get you to ride me until your thighs give out then roll you onto you back and hook your knees over my shoulders.”

“I hope you know I’m taking notes,” Prompto says.

Gladio pats his ass and it’s more of a tease than anything. Also -

“Weird. Pretty sure your phone is in your pocket,” Gladio says blandly.

“Huh,” Prompto says widening his eyes, “Guess you’re right.”

Gladio kisses him softly, quickly, laughing under his breath.

“Shall we go back in while the food is still warm,” Gladio asks.

“I guess,” Prompto says sadly.

Noct gives him another funny look when they walk in and Prompto announces loudly that he was just being an idiot and had his phone the whole time.

Ignis turns away to hide his smile but Prompto catches it anyway, thankful to his residual sunburn for hiding his embarrassment.

\- - -

“Any luck?” Gladio asks, drawing Prompto into the circle of his arms. Gladio’s perched on a low wall so he has the very rare experience of standing taller than his boyfriend, wrapping his arms aver his shoulders and resting his head atop Gladio’s.

“Nah, but I didn’t think I would,” Prompto says.

The ‘tech’ available at the little settlement is little more than torches and spare batteries, nothing even remotely resembling the memory card Prompto needs.

Lestallum had completely filled him up, even though he’d bought a spare just for the trip.

“What will you do?” Gladio asks.

Prompto shrugs, “I’ll have to delete some shots. Though I hate doing that with the small screen - it’s making a judgement without all the information, you know.”

Ignis snaps his notebook shut and turns to him.

“You’re more than welcome to transfer things onto my laptop to sort through,” Ignis says, “I don’t have the software you use but it'll certainly provide a bigger picture?”

“You mean it?

“Of course,” Ignis says and his smile widens, “At least you’ll have something to entertain you while Noctis fishes for the next few days.”

“Ah man, thanks Iggy!”

Prompto leans across to give Ignis a hug around his shoulders and Ignis pats his back with a soft laugh.

“Guys!” Noct says excitedly and Prompto pulls back from Ignis in time to see him _running_ towards them. Must be some fancy fish lure he just bought.

“What’s up Princess?” Gladio says tugging Prompto back into his arms and onto his knee.

“Some of the hunters were just talking - apparently there’s this _giant_ fish in the Vesperpool. _Legendary_. I _have_ to catch it.”

Prompto laughs but Gladio actually looks intrigued. Noct’s so excited that he’s apparently letting the _Princess_ slide, something he usually does not.

“How big?” Gladio asks.

Noct makes an obscene hand gesture.

“You’ll perhaps need a bigger net,” Ignis says dryly.

“They have one in the shop,” Noct enthuses pointing back at it.

He looks between his friends with wide open eyes and a hopeful expression. Prompto finds it impossible to dampen his spirits.

“Did they give you any bait tips?” Prompto asks. Gladio squeezes his hip and Noctis _beams_.

“Yeah,” Noct says happily, “Can we -”

“Let us stock up on supplies,” Ignis says, “I’ll get some produce to eat with fish.”

\- - -

After a day of fishing with no luck Noct begrudgingly moves onto the other bank, cajoled and convinced by being reminded how excited he was to experience _both_ banks before they set out. Rosie splashes about in the shallow water that leads up the edge of the fishing dock and she must not be disturbing the fish because Noct lets her without complaint.

Noct’s spirits are _low_ though and they can all tell. Rosie keeps going up to his side and giving him an affectionate lick or nibble and though he smiles every time it’s a stark difference to the man that’d been overflowing with excitement heading out of Meldacio.

Prompto’s transferring more pictures across to Ignis’ laptop, hooked up to their portable generator absently watching Gladio play fetch with Rosie.

“How attached are you to camping by the Maidenwater?” Ignis asks unexpectedly.

Prompto shrugs, “Not at all.”

“And Gladio, do you know?”

“Same, I think. He’s excited to go into the Thicket but apart from that,” Prompto shakes his head.

“I though we could break camp after dinner and move back to the other bank. Give Noct a full day tomorrow rather than head off to the mountain and forgo a night by the river. He said all reports of the fish from before were early morning – this might give him an actual fighting chance.”

“You think the fish exists?” Prompto asks, lowering his tone even though Noct definitely can’t hear them.

“Legends usually have some basis in fact,” Ignis says.

\- - -

There’s some _commotion_ when Prompto clambers out of the tent the next morning.

Not because Prompto’s the last one up for a change but because Noctis appears to be reeling something in.

Something _big_.

Prompto rushes over in his bare feet.

“What’s going on?” Prompto all but gasps.

“Noct got a bite,” Ignis says with a sort of familiar forced calm. Rosie lays by his feet, head on her paws as she stares intently out at the water line.

“ _The_ bite?”

“Looks like it,” Gladio calls excitedly then turning back to Noct he says, “Careful - if it breaks the line -”

“I _know_ ,” Noct snaps.

“What time did he get up?” Prompto asks Ignis quietly.

“Both of them were out here before I awoke,” Ignis says.

Prompto has a vague memory of Gladio slipping away from him, being briefly cold before Rosie laid herself down in his empty spot and buried her nose beneath his chin to encourage him back to sleep. Prompto couldn’t even guess what time that had been though.

“Noctis has certainly caught a lot already,” Ignis says. He nods to the full bucket but Noct’s chair and the holding net they’d picked up at Meldacio, several inedible species swimming in their temporary home.

“Fish breakfast?” Prompto teases.

“Lunch and dinner, too,” Ignis concurs.

And then the massive body of a fish pushes above the water line.

“Holy shit,” Noct cries, “Did you see -”

“You’ve got this,” Gladio says, “Keep turning the rod.”

Rosie climbs to her feet and paces back and forth across the width of the deck, sensing everyone’s excitement.

Noct nods furiously and pulls his rod to the left before reeling briefly, pausing and then going again.

“Almost there,” Noct mutters.

Prompto turns around and rushes back to the tent, grabbing his camera and digging out his tripod from their supplies. He arrives back just in time to see Gladio kicking out of his shoes and rolling up his jeans.

Prompto quickly sets up the tripod and then gets to work snapping shots of Noct as he pulls the rod upwards, fins and tail splaying the dock with spray. Rosie brushes against his legs and Prompto spares a moment to scratch around her ears and praise her for being such a good girl.

“Ready to grab it?” Noct asks Gladio.

“Bring it closer,” Gladio instructs and then he jumps into the lake.

Gladio has to toss the fish up over his shoulder to get it out of the water but then he and Noct very carefully lower it onto the deck.

It’s not exactly a _beautiful_ fish, Prompto thinks, though it is impressive, probably as long as he is with brown-grey scales that glitter prettily in the morning light, pink and red along it’s belly.

“We did it, Noct!” Gladio says and they high-five before Gladio pulls himself back up onto the deck.

Noct laughs, reverently tracing his hand down the length of the fish, “He’s a beast!”

“Well done, Noct,” Ignis tells him warmly.

“Smile!” Prompto instructs and Noct crouches down so Prompto can get a picture of him with the fish in the frame, shooting Prompto a goofy grin and thumbs up.

“Everyone else too,” Noct says and Prompto quickly frames the shot with his camera, the others picking the fish up from the deck so it’s help between Noct and Gladio. Prompto sets the timer and races around, squeezing into a gap just in time for his shutter to go off three times.

“Wait. Something's stuck on him,” Gladio says and Noct carefully eases an old fish hook from it’s side.

“It’s some kind of lure,” Noct says turning over the bright silver thing in his hand. It’s not dissimilar in shape to the fish itself and Noct smiles as he stares down at it.

“It’s a trophy,” Gladio says, “Something he won back in the day and now it’s yours.”

“We should put him back,” Noct says, “He fought well, he needs a nap.”

Gladio smiles and teases, “I think _you_ need a nap.”

Noct laughs again, “That too.”

Prompto steps forwards with Ignis to help Noct hold the fish as Gladio climbs back into the water and together the four of them lower the fish back down into the water. It seems to hesitate for a moment and then it flicks it’s tail fin one time before sinking further down into the water and disappearing from view in nothing more than a ripple of water.

Gladio hops out of the water again and as Rosie tries to hop up at his chest he throws his arm around Noct’s shoulders and messes up his hair.

“Good hustle,” he says.

Noct blushes and pushes him away before rolling his eyes and says, “Yeah. I know. I’m awesome.”

\- - -

The hike up Ravatogh is tough.

Prompto’s always had pretty strong thighs but even so when they stop halfway up the tourist trail to rest their legs and stop for a drink he’s _very_ grateful. Rosie runs laps around them as they climb, not a care in the world, smartly keeping to the patches where scrubby grass and shrub push through the earth the keep her paws off the hotter stone.

They seem to have the mountain to themselves, not through any engineering on Ignis’ part but simply by pure chance. Prompto manages to find the shot Vyv had hinted at - he thinks - at the ends of a tourist trail, in the shape of a beautiful opening in the earth surrounded by tall, tendrils of rock reaching up towards the sky and slow moving lava bubbling sluggishly along the ground.

They find the camp spot two-thirds of the way up by mid-afternoon and stop to set up, Ignis cooking up the last of their fish from the cooler.

\- - -

Malmalam Thicket is an enjoyable change of pace after their excursion up Ravatogh.

It’s humid inside the densely wooded area but also _cool_ and Prompto spends an enjoyable day wandering with his friends and getting pictures of pretty birds, small creatures and brightly coloured flowers. Rosie mostly naps but occasionally rouses herself enough to chase a squirrel up a tree or splash through the shallow pool at the base of the waterfall where they set up camp.

There’s no normal fishing to be found but Noct and Ignis spend the afternoon netting up impressive crabs and Prompto would _never_ turn down any meal cooked by Ignis but it makes a nice departure from all the fish they’ve been eating.

\- - -

Prompto twists in his seat to look back at Noct in the back seat, playing some kind of bizarre game of peek-a-boo with Rosie.

“So this is like your Dad’s summer home? But he never uses it?”

Noct scratches his nose, “Kind of.”

Prompto looks at Ignis.

“Caem is mostly used as a private dock for the crown but a few generations ago the King built a small dwelling there to make travel more comfortable and support the lighthouse.”

“So someone lives there?” Prompto checks.

“The house is manned,” Ignis explains, “But we’ll have complete run of the place.”

“Is there, uh - more than one room?”

Gladio snorts and Noct kicks the back of his chair. Prompto blushes.

“We’ll be sharing the second bedroom,” Ignis says, “Sorry.”

“No!” Prompto cries perhaps a little too exuberantly, “That’s cool. I was just wondering.”

Prompto settles back into his seat and Gladio catches his eye in the side-mirror. Prompto gives him an exaggerated pout and Gladio winks at him, shoulders shaking with a silent laugh.

Ignis pulls the regalia into a dirt parking and as soon as the engine’s cut Prompto hears a _kweh_.

Prompto sits forward so fast he almost smashes his head on the wind shield. Gladio laughs and pushes his door open, waiting for Rosie to clamber over him before sliding out himself.

Prompto looks at him with wide eyes but Gladio just shakes his head and points at Noct.

Prompto whirls around to look at him, half kneeling up on his seat despite all of Ignis’ previous complaints about boots on the leather.

Noct shrugs, “I can’t help you get laid, sorry, but I could rent a few chocobos so you could have some more time with them here.”

Prompto launches himself over the seat to hug his best-friend.

Both of them hit their heads.

Worth it.

\- - -

Wiz’s employee had delivered two birds, one a beautiful vibrant yellow and the other a darker shade, almost orange.

Prompto rides the yellow one around the grounds on the second day, joined intermittently by each of his friends and Rosie trotting alongside them.

He doesn’t cry again, which is nice and he thinks the sweet scent and the texture of their feathers is permanently etched into his memory.

That evening Gladio and Ignis work together on the big grill - all meat and veggies, no fish - and they eat outside, Prompto leaning up against his chocobo warm and happy and content.

Before bed he and Gladio climb the lighthouse and it’s still not the alone time Prompto’s after but it’s certainly nice to curl up on Gladio’s lap for a bit and listen to him tell him about the different constellations and the Lucian legends that go along with them.

Prompto falls asleep listening to his deep voice and only half-wakes as Gladio adjusts his hold on him to carry him back down to the house.

\- - -

On the way back to Galdin Quay they stop at a place marked as Schier Heights on the map, making camp in the shade of the giant stone arches that stretch for what seems like miles above them.

They find an entrance to a cave and even though they all have torches Rosie whines and tries to pull them back before they’ve gone very far and they unanimously agree that whatever might be hiding inside isn’t worth their time.

Gladio builds up a bigger fire than normal and the four of them sit together around one side roasting marshmallows that Ignis has managed to keep hidden from Noct for the entire trip.

\- - -

Nyx beats them to Galdin, resting casually against the side of a crown issued black car face breaking into a smile as Ignis reverses the Regalia into the space next to him.

Noct over dramatically complains when Nyx pulls Ignis close and kisses him but Prompto just thinks it’s _nice_. Ignis deserves to be happy too. He likes seeing people happily in love. He likes _being_ happily in love.

Maybe he’s just in love with love.

-

Noct drums his fingers against the table as the server walks away with their orders, obviously agitated and uncomfortable.

Ignis calmly places his hand over Noct’s and asks, “What’s the matter?”

“I think we should cancel the boat for tomorrow,” Noct says.

“What, why?” Nyx asks, “I was really looking forward to going out on the water.”

Noct hesitates and it’s Gladio that says, “Prom got sick last time.”

“Barely,” Prompto argues even though the idea of it maybe happening again has been bothering him too.

“Sea-sick?” Nyx asks face pinching with sympathy.

Prompto shakes his head, “My body doesn’t know how to process this much sunlight.”

Nyx chokes on his laughter and Noct smiles at least, though a little begrudgingly.

“You guys should still go out on the boat,” Prompto tells him, “You really enjoyed it last time and I can just stay here. Take some pictures and stuff.”

Every single one of his friends frowns, Gladio slips his hand onto his knee.

Iggy and Nyx exchange a long look. Ignis tilts his head and Nyx nods.

“Gladio can stay too,” Nyx says when they turn back to the table.

“I’m supposed to stay with Noct,” Gladio argues.

“I’m sure Nyx and I can manage,” Ignis says, “On the boat with one other person.”

Gladio looks a little longingly at Prompto but seems hesitant to agree.

“No one will tell your Dad,” Noct says flatly.

Prompto giggles and Gladio squeezes his knee.

“Besides I’m sure you and Prompto could do with a little alone time,” Ignis says smirking, “As you so graciously allowed Nyx and I the second room.”

Graciousness has nothing to do with it really. Gladio’s the Shield, he sleeps in the same room as Noct on the road, it's like a law or something.

Plus at least he and Gladio have been able to _see_ each other. Prompto can’t really deny Ignis and Nyx the chance of a sweet reunion alone.

Prompto twists to look up at Gladio with his best pleading face.

“Not the face,” Gladio complains, gently pushing Prompto’s face so it’s hidden in his neck, “You guys don’t mind?” he asks Nyx and Iggy, “Because I sure as hell want to cash in on a day with Prom. Believe me.”

Prom squeezes Gladio’s hand on his knees.

“Uh huh,” Noct deadpans, “I’m sure you guys will really take in all the sights.”

Prompto laughs and pulls back from Gladio’s neck.

“You guys better stay away from my bed,” Noct adds.

\- - -

“I feel betrayed,” Prompto says waving as his friends _and_ his dog sail away from the dock and leave him and Gladio behind.

“She really loves that boat,” Gladio muses.

They watch until the white boat is small on the horizon and then Gladio bends down and lifts Prompto up over his shoulder.

“Woah,” Prompto says laughing, Gladio playfully slaps his thigh.

“How attached were you to taking pictures?” Gladio asks starting to make his way back across the beach towards the hotel.

“If my choices are washed out pictures of the ocean or your cock then I pick option two please.”

Gladio laughs and pats his butt, “Good answer.”

Prompto tries to twist up and look where they’re going and sees that they’re rapidly approaching the edge of the beach.

“I can walk,” Prompto chirps.

“My legs are longer,” Gladio argues.

“But,” Prompto giggles and braces his hands on Gladio’s hips as he walks, “It’s a fancy place - people will look.”

“Let them,” Gladio says.

“ _Gladio_.”

Gladio stops walking and swings Prompto back down onto the ground at the edge of the parking lot. Prompto wobbles, unsteady, and Gladio places a helpful hand at his waist, tugging him close.

“We really can go somewhere if you want,” Gladio says.

“Later,” Prompto says and he turns, taking Gladio’s hand to pull him back towards the hotel.

Prompto tries to keep his pace even but Gladio still laughs at his eagerness, happily walking at his side as they rush past the diners still out on the deck on their way to the room.

Prompto flings off his tank top before the door is even closed and inhales sharply when Gladio takes a moment to hang the _do not disturb_ sign off the door handle.

“You remember the list?” Gladio says.

“Thought that was for home,” Prompto teases.

Gladio arches an eyebrow and stalks towards him.

“Something else in mind?”

Prompto wets his bottom lip, “Something a bit faster?”

“You know me,” Gladio says and the sound of his shorts hitting the ground is oddly loud, “As long as I can get my hands on you.”

Prompto jumps on the bed, flopping onto his back and hurrying to push his own swim shorts down, Gladio stepping up and grabbing them when they get to his knees and ripping them the rest of the way down. They hit the opposite wall with a soft thud.

Prompto stretches out and Gladio’s follows the lines of his body with his eyes, zeroing in on the soft clench of abdomen as he tenses against the rush of shyness that always tries to take over.

“Lube,” Gladio grunts and he tears himself away from Prompto and taking hold of his dick as he crosses to the bathroom.

Prompto laughs softly and raises his legs, pressing his feet to the mattress and putting himself on display. He reaches for his own cock, stroking it just a couple times to pull it to full hardness.

“I had an idea,” Gladio announces when he reappears.

“Care to share with the class?”

“You like the view right?”

Prompto sits up, idea settling in his veins. He nods.

Gladio grins, “On your feet baby.”

Prompto scrambles up eagerly and walks to the large windows, seeing nothing but the vast expanse of blue beyond and the vague shape of land far off and away.

Gladio crowds him from behind, nuzzling the back of his neck neck and tapping the glass.

“Hands up.”

Prompto leans forward, bending slightly at the waist to brace himself against the window, spreading his legs slightly for balance. Gladio kisses his neck again then trails down, mouth dropping affection along the length of his spine, hand warm on his thigh as Gladio lowers himself to his knees behind him.

Prompto’s expecting it but he still gasps when Gladio spreads his cheeks apart and licks across his hole. His head drops forward as Gladio works him warm and wet and open, barely registering the click of the lube bottle opening and closing until Gladio’s slick finger is pressing against him, tugging him open to make way for his tongue.

“Gods,” Prompto sighs. He remembers the view and raises his head again, wishing he’d stepped close enough to the window that he could press his forehead against it.

Gladio pulls back and nips at the top of his thigh, “I missed you,” he rumbles.

“Hmm. Me - ah, shit - me too,” Prompto returns, distracted by Gladio’s tongue pressing into him once more.

Prompto tries to be patient, hips rocking only a little into Gladio’s hand and mouth, whining softly when his boyfriend seems unconcerned with pressing forward and working him _open_ instead just teasing him with his mouth and _one_ inquisitive finger.

“Gladio,” he moans, “I can’t - please.”

“What do you want?” Gladio asks, as always, like Prompto’s answer isn’t all the same.

“You.”

“You have me,” Gladio teases, crooking his finger and rubbing it ruthlessly against Prompto’s walls.

“ _Gladio_ ,” he whines, “Please.”

Gladio pulls away chuckling and Prompto’s about to _mutiny_ until he hears the sound of the lube again, two fingers pressing carefully against his rim. Gladio drops a kiss to each of his ass cheeks and then climbs back to his feet as those fingers press inside him.

Prompto sighs at the sensation of _almost_ being filled with the combined sensation of his boyfriend all around him. Gladio’s spare hand trails down Prompto’s belly to take his cock loosely in hand.

Prompto groans. He tilts his head back against Gladio’s shoulder, trying to tilt his head for a kiss and they come together a little haphazard, lips and teeth and tongues a tangled mess.

Gladio pulls back and kisses his temple.

“You’re missing the view?” he teases. Two fingers twist deliberately inside him, brushing just briefly against his prostate before retreating entirely from his body. Gladio waits until Prompto’s leaning forward again, eyes fixed on the horizon and then he splits him open with three slick fingers.

Prompto rocks back onto his, trying desperately to keep his eyes open in case closing them makes Gladio stop.

“Good?” Gladio asks, breath hot on his ear.

Prompto nods fervently.

Gladio’s fingers twist inside him then retreat slightly as Gladio spreads them apart, thrusting them back in again roughly enough the breath is forced from Prompto's lungs.

“Please,” Prompto sighs and Gladio’s fingers draw back slowly with another kiss on his neck.

The blunt tip of Gladio’s cock rubs teasingly against his entrance and Prompto arches his hips, making it easier for Gladio to slide all the way inside him in one quick thrust.

“Shit,” Gladio grunts. His hand moves a little rougher over Prompto’s cock and Prompto’s thighs quiver almost alarmingly, strength leaving them at the overwhelming feeling of Gladio within him once more

“Too long,” Prompto moans.

Gladio thrusts roughly into him, bypassing his usual slow build up and Prompto’s knees almost give out.

Gladio braces him with his arm strong around his waist, still rocking into him with shallow little jerks. Mouth pressed to Prompto’s shoulder he asks, “Bed?”

“Bed,” Prompto agrees.

Gladio scoops him up, raising him half off his cock but still plainly inside him and with his back pressed to Gladio’s chest. Prompto turned and carried back across the room, secure in Gladio's arms.

He’s lowered onto the sumptuous mattress gently and Prompto puts his arms out to brace himself. Gladio slips fully free as lets Prompto go and Prompto seizes the opportunity to roll over onto his back, raising his legs as Gladio steps up tight to the edge of the mattress.

Gladio presses Prompto’s knees together, holding the back of them in one hand to pull them up and lift his hips clean off the bed so he can press inside again. Prompto keens as Gladio bottoms out, fingers twisting tight into the bed sheets.

Gladio starts a rapid pace again, having to press Prompto’s thighs to his chest so he can wrap his arm around and take his cock in hand again, starting stroking in time with his thrusts.

Prompto builds _fast_ , abdomen clenching and dick twitching out a damp sticky thread that Gladio works into his skin. This is going to be _fast_ but maybe they’ll get to go again, if their friends leave them alone long enough.

Prompto tosses his head back and moans, noises slipping free in an endless torrent, unable to stop himself as he trembles and shakes.

“Baby,” Gladio groans, “Baby - you’re so -”

Gladio’s rhythm faults briefly before he picks it up again, hands fisting his cock roughly.

“M’so close,” Prompto moans, gasping as Gladio thrusts _deep_ pausing for a second with his thighs pressed to Prompto’s ass and then fucking into him seemingly with abandon.

“Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” Prompto hisses, cutting off as his body tenses, every muscles tightening at once and then relaxing as his release washes over him.

Gladio shouts his name grinding into Prompto as he’s flooded in a hot rush that spills out of him a moment later when Gladio pulls out of him so he can collapse onto the bed at his side. Prompto pants, almost laughing when he rolls onto his side so he can tuck and arm thigh over Gladio while he tries to catch his breath.

“Astrals,” Gladio moans, “We can’t go that long again.”

“The reunion might kill us next time,” Prompto agrees, giggling.

Prompto brushes Gladio’s hair away from his neck and leans forward to trail kisses along it.

Gladio hums contentedly and admits, “I meant for that to last longer.”

Prompto gifts him a few more kisses and then offers, “We can always go again.”

Gladio raises his head enough to look at him, obviously intrigued.

“We could go for a little swim first,” Prompto suggests, teasing, “Skinny dip off the deck?”

Gladio rolls over onto his side and pats Prompto’s hip.

“I’m game if you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the start of a chapter but I don't know how I thought this wouldn't be a chapter all by itself when it got cut from Saturation partly because it was going to take up so much space. So there's been another chapter count increase.  
> Real talk, I have to use the for babies factor 50+ sun lotion when the sun occasionally shows itself over the UK because I burn through everything else.  
> I may have gotten the Myrlwood and Malmalam Thicket mixed up in my head during the planning stages so like, if it doesn’t have a waterfall I’m sorry.  
> 


	14. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys head back to school, celebrate some birthdays and Prompto finds out some new information about himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo. Sorry to tell you but there’s a big ol’ homophobia warning on this one. It’s Prompto’s version of that solstice party so you know what’s down.
> 
> On the other hand we finally get the pay off for that thing I've been teasing for a few chapters.

Prompto changes into some loose gym shorts he swiped from Noct and steps back out of the staffroom into the main part of _Insomnia Ink_.

“Surprised Gladio’s not here for this,” Eli says mildly as he watches Prompto make his way towards him. Prompto spots Eli is trimming around the edge of the stencil Prompto had carefully crafted that morning.

“I can do that,” Prompto tells him, “You don’t need to -”

“Shut it, Kid. I’m _your_ assistant today.”

Prompto laughs, “I mean sure but what time is your client in today?”

Eli shakes his head, “Not until two.”

Prompto roll up the shorts over one thigh, tucking the fabric up under the waistband so it doesn’t roll down again and the reaches for the damp cloth he’d set out earlier, wiping it over his thigh and then reaching for the disposable razor.

As Prompto removes the fine, fair hair from his thigh Eli prods, “So. Why no Gladio?”

“I didn’t tell him,” Prompto admits, “I kind of wanted it to be a surprise.”

Eli raises one eyebrow, “You think he won’t like it.”

Prompto feels his face grow warm. A little awkwardly he clears his throat.

“I think he _will_ ,” Prompto admits, “Unless I fuck it up.”

“You won’t,” Eli promises grinning, “But if you want me to do it we can. You know I will.”

“No, no,” Prompto says, “I want to. I feel ready.”

“You are,” Eli says.

Prompto wipes his leg again and then reaches to take the stencil from Eli’s hand. He hesitates.

“Will you help me position -”

“Of course,” Eli says and he rolls forward on his chair. Gently he pushes against the back of Prompto’s knee so his leg isn’t so straight.

“Try not to tense your thigh,” Eli warns and the he presses the stencil against Prompto’s thigh where he’s watched Prompto sketch the shape half a dozen times already.

“Check the mirror,” Eli tells him and Prompto obediently moves away to where they have the full length mirror hanging on the wall.

Prompto looks at the simple lines of the feather, the way it curves along his thigh. Big enough for Prompto to work in but not so big that if he _does_ mess it up he’s ruined his whole thigh.

Prompto settles into his chair and edges the pillow under his thigh to get a better angle and reaches for the tattoo gun.

“Got it?” Eli says.

Prompto nods, flicking the switch so it buzzes to life and presses it against his skin.

-

There’s a wobble in the central line but when Prompto stands to look at his completed tattoo in the mirror he can barely see it. He likes the way he managed to blend the colours, almost orange along the rachis and pulling lighter and brighter yellow towards the tips.

Prompto can forgive himself the hand cramp that made him slip outside the line at the top this is the first tattoo he’s ever done.

His first tattoo.

Not on an orange, or pig skin but an actual real, permanent tattoo.

Prompto _beams_ stretching out his leg and trying to ease the new ache in his hip without doing anything obscene. He’s proud of himself, sure, but he twisted himself all about to get at the parts closest to his hip.

Eli steps up behind him and places his hands on his shoulders and gives him a playful jostle.

“It’s good,” Eli says.

“Yeah?” Prompto breathes.

“Better than _my_ first one,” Eli laughs “And I’d prove it if I could show you without pulling my pants down right now.”

Prompto laughs too.

Eli squeezes his shoulders, “Let me wrap you up and you can _carefully_ put your jeans back on.”

“I can do it,” Prompto protests.

Eli lightly scuffs the back of his head and then steps away to grab the wrap.

-

“How’d it go?” Noct whispers as they stand side by side at the sink - Prompto washing dishes and Noct drying.

“Hmm?”

“Your tattoo?”

“Oh,” Prompto says, trying to be quiet, “Good I think. Or well, not awful.”

Noct smiles and knocks their shoulders together.

“Can I see it?” Noct asks.

“Tomorrow,” Prompto promises, “I don’t want to unwrap it until I’m taking my jeans off for the day.”

Noct nods but looks disappointed.

“And when can you do mine?”

Prompto startles, “You can maybe be like my _fiftieth_ tattoo if tattooing you isn’t treason.”

Noct pouts briefly and then grins.

“Gladio’s gonna go _wild._ Please don’t show him until me, Iggy and Nyx have left.”

Prompto scoops up a handful of soap bubbles and blows them into Noct’s face.

It’s still a couple hours until Ignis drives the three of them back to their own apartment building, Noct and Prompto getting absorbed in a co-op RPG in this last reprieve before they’re return to classes next week.

August looks to be interesting to say the least.

Prompto was already _concerned_ about Noct’s birthday, unsure the present he picked up in Lestallum is really good enough. And that was even _before_ Ignis had handed him a fancy ass envelope a few days ago inviting Prompto to Noct’s official birthday _ball_ where his not-quite-official-fiance will be in attendance.

Apparently she can’t _wait_ to meet Prompto.

Rosie had been napping on the bed but jumps down when they enter the bedroom, moving instead to curl up on her bed in the corner of the room - _after_ good night head rubs and chin scratches, of course.

Then Prompto gets nervous.

Gladio _will_ like it, Prompto’s sure. So why does he suddenly not want to show him?

Maybe Prompto was clouded by first tattoo giddiness when he did it and he’ll unwrap it in three minutes and _hate_ it. What if he’s about to get a new despised tattoo?

Prompto avoids taking off his pants for as long as he can, pilfering Gladio old Crownsguard training t-shirt that absolutely wouldn’t fit his boyfriend anymore anyway. No matter how much Gladio playfully grumbles whenever Prompto swipes his clothes.

They’re comfy, okay? And Gladio smells good like all the time somehow.

Prompto pulls off his socks one by one, sensing Gladio’s eyes on him as he goes through his bedroom routine - brushing the gel out of his hair, dipping into the bathroom to remove his contact.

Prompto takes a deep breath and facing Gladio he starts to undo his jeans, carefully pushing the denim past his hips.

“So I did a thing today,” Prompto says nervously.

Gladio’s eyes narrow in on the tape as it becomes visible and he leans forward eagerly.

“ _You_ did it or Eli did it?” Gladio asks actually _fidgeting_ as Prompto carefully rolls his pants down.

“ _I_ did it. It’s not -” Prompto hesitates, choosing his words carefully, “Well its not actually bad but its not good either.”

The moment Prompto’s jeans are kicked free of his feet Gladio’s hands are on his hips, firm hold but gentle direction as he encourages Prompto to lay back against the bed. Prompto settles and manages to relax under the eagerness in Gladio’s face.

Gladio touches the edge of the tape, “Can I look?”

“I need to uncover it anyway,” Prompto says nodding - probably should have uncovered it earlier to be honest, “Thought I could hit you up for some cream, too.”

Gladio smiles, “I’ve got you covered.”

Shifting down the bed Gladio drops a kiss to Prompto’s other thigh and then with almost surprising tenderness he starts to pull away the tape.

Prompto had shaved so thoroughly - and is generally not _that_ hairy anyway - that there’s nothing for the tape to catch on and it barely pulls as it’s peeled away just the general itchiness that’s usually left behind when you take off a plaster.

Gladio doesn’t say anything for long enough that Prompto gets _nervous_. Again.

“Its gonna make me run faster,” Prompto teases, choking on his anxious laugh.

Gladio’s hand presses into his bare thigh and roughly he says, “It’s good. I like it. It’s _so_ you.”

Prompto half smiles, “When I told Eli what I was doing he told me I was being predictable.”

Not today when Prompto was full of nerves but in the weeks leading up to now; Eli had half seriously tried to convince him to put the tattoo on his ass like a tease from long ago.

“Eli can do one,” Gladio says earnestly, almost a little annoyed, “This is perfect.”

“I cricked my neck real good twisting to look at it I tell ya,” Prompto says

Gladio kisses his this again and Prompto expects that mouth to turn inward along his thigh but Gladio pulls away instead.

“Let me cream you up and then I’ll rub you down. Work out the strain.”

Prompto sinks into the mattress. That sounds really fucking good actually.

“I love you,” Prompto murmurs.

Gladio grins, “Love you, too.” Prompto’s heart thumps a little fast.

Gladio swings himself off the bed and rummages just briefly in his bedside draw for a tub of his much used tattoo cream. He diverts into the bathroom and comes back with a damp cloth they usually use in decidedly different circumstances.

“I’ll give you a full tub to take back to yours,” Gladio says climbing back onto the bed.

Gladio gently wipes over the tattoo so it’s clean and Prompto lets his eyes close as Gladio carefully applies the cream, attentively covering every bit of ink.

“You’ll have to sleep on your side,” Gladio says absently as Prompto hears the cap screw back on.

“Mmm,” Prompto agrees, “You’ll have to hold me still so I don’t -” he yawns “-fidget too much.”

Gladio’s hand is warm on his other thigh, “I can do that. Was it just your neck that’s sore -”

Prompto wiggles on the bed a little and murmurs, “Hips. Thighs. This one in particular.”

Prompto raises his tattooed thigh and Gladio catches it behind the knee, using his other hand to rub down the back of it in a way that makes Prompto groan in the back of his throat.

Strong hands caress his hips and as the ache eases Prompto struggles to find his voice when Gladio rolls him onto his side.

“I’ll do your shoulders in the morning,” Gladio tells him, settling along his back and wrapping his arm over his waist.

“’Kay.”

Gladio laughs softly and kisses the back of his neck.

“And I thought we could pick up Iris after breakfast and head over to the art store so you can get your stuff for school.”

“S’ns nice.”

Gladio laughs again and his next kiss lands behind Prompto’s ear.

“Goodnight, Freckles.”

\- - -

From: Vyv Dorden(vdorden@meteorpublishing.org)

To: Prompto Argentum (p.argentum@insomniauniversity.edu)

CC: Finance (finance@meteorpublishing.org)

05/08/757 12:52

Hey Prompto,

These shots are amazing!

I’d like to go ahead and buy all the shots from

Lestallum and Ravatogh as well as a few select

others but it’s possible I’ll want some of the

others later. I’ve attached a breakdown with all

the ones I’d like and how much we generally pay for

pictures but if the prices aren’t acceptable to you

let me know. If they are then just forward your

invoice to finance with the reference on the attached

page and we’ll set about getting you paid for your

hard work.

Fantastic shots, seriously, I look forward to working

with you again soon.

Vyv

Prompto reads through the email and then opens the attachment on his phone.

That’s -

That’s _so much_ money. At first Prompto thinks it’s an error, that it much be listed in Gil not Crowns but no. No.

“Iggy,” Prompto says, kind of breathlessly as he all but falls off the couch and rushes to the adviser where he’s working at the dining table, “Iggy do you know how to send an invoice?”

Ignis looks up from computer, clearly still distracted by whatever is on the screen, and says, “Hmm?”

“Vyv wants to buy my photos but I need to send him an invoice,” Prompto says. He kind of tumbles his phone into Ignis’ hand but Ignis just rights it without saying anything and skims over the email.

“Oh Prompto that’s wonderful news. Much deserved too, your photos of the trip are exceptional,” Ignis enthuses.

Prompto blushes, “Thank you.”

“The easiest way to set up an invoice will be with your LucisPay account,” Ignis explains, “I can show you how.”

“I uh - I don’t have a LucisPay account,” Prompto admits, “They make it too easy to buy stuff. One click and all that. I like to have to think about what I’m buying or I’ll end up just wasting all my money.”

Ignis smiles, “That shows a wonderful level of restraint that I wish _other people_ would show from time to time.”

Noct tears his eyes away from the TV and scowls over his shoulder at the two of them.

“I wasn’t paying attention so I have no idea what’s going on but I can tell I’m being talked about,” Noct says, “And I don’t like it.”

Ignis and Prompto laugh and Noct simply turns back to the TV.

“Lets set you up an account first,” Ignis says, “Then we’ll go through the process of making an invoice.”

“Oh gosh and then I have to worry about _taxes_ ,” Prompto says completely at a loss how to go about that.

Ignis laughs, “One thing at a time.”

“Right,” Prompto mumbles.

The TV clicks off and Noct stretches in a way that involves a lot of noise before wandering over.

“Is it a lot of money?” Noct asks and Prompto surmises that he had in fact been paying more attention than he’d previously let on.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, then corrects, “Well, for me anyway.”

Noct raises an eyebrow and Prompto slides the phone back over. Noct presses on the screen after barely a minute and Prompto suspects he’s opened the invoice without any instructions.

Noct gives a low whistle and asks, “What are you going to spend it on - and don’t be _boring_ and say you’re going to save it _all_.”

Prompto stick out his tongue at him but admits, “I might use it to learn to drive.”

Ignis and Noct exchange a look and Ignis taps away at his keyboard a few times before saying, “No need to spend any money on that.”

“Iggy taught _me_ to drive,” Noct says even though Prompto already knew this, where else would he have learnt?

“And I’ll certainly teach you, too,” Ignis puts in, “Or Nyx if you’d prefer. Gladio and Clarus too would certainly be more than happy to show you the ropes.”

Prompto frowns, “I don’t want to take up everyone’s time.”

Both his friends roll their eyes.

“We’ll set up a routine when you’re settled back in at school,” Ignis says with finality, “Now. You use your university email for everything, correct?”

“Yeah, is that - is it bad?”

“Not at all,” Ignis says, “But perhaps we should set you up something separate going forward for business enquiries and such.”

“Huh,” Prompto says but he does, because Ignis is right and he’s forwarding an invoice to Meteor’s finance team in less than an hour.

\- - -

It’s a good job Prompto didn’t splurge all his money on something frivolous after all because he absolutely is going to need the bulk of it set aside so he’s halfway acceptably dressed for Noct’s birthday party.

“No,” Noct says when Prompto mentions this to him.

They’re sat together on _their_ bench sharing coffee and a bag of freshly friend mini-doughnuts from the new van that popped up over the summer break.

“But I need something to wear,” Prompto argues, wiping some grease off his finger with his napkin, “I can’t come to the _Citadel_ in ripped jeans and a band tee.”

“You do that all the time,” Noct points out. Prompto would fling a bit of doughnut at Noct’s face but they are delicious so he does not.

“This is different and you know it,” Prompto gripes.

“I can just lend you something,” Noct says, “You can’t spend all that money on something you’ll wear one time.”

“But I can’t wear something of yours,” Prompto argues. People would _know,_ they’d be able to tell it wasn’t his, that it didn’t _belong_. That _he_ doesn’t belong.

But if he buys something expensive and tailored then people might be able to see past his blond hair and obvious foreignness.

“You do _that_ all the time too,” Noct gripes.

Prompto shakes his head and with as much finality as possible says, “I’m getting something nice.

-

[Gladio 14:08] Babe. Please don’t spend _all_ your money on a suit for Noct’s birthday.

[Prompto 14:11] noct sucks ass. why’d he tattle?

[Gladio 14:12] Because he doesn’t want you to spend all that money you earnt on something that won’t make you happy.

[Prompto 14:13] not being an embarrassment at noct’s birthday will make me happy

Prompto’s phone vibrates in his hand, Gladio’s contact image - a sickly sweet shot of the two of them similar but different to the background of Prompto’s phone - fills the screen.

Prompto’s between classes so he answers it, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hi,” Prompto says. Gladio doesn’t call often and when he does it’s because he wants Prompto to know he _really_ means what he’s saying.

“ _You could never embarrass me_ ,” Gladio says, “ _Being in love with you is the greatest thing I’ve ever done.”_

Prompto blushes but smiles, biting the inside of his cheek to keep it in check.

“Even if I wear a pink suit and forget to put on my pants?”

Gladio laughs, deep and rich even through the phone, “ _I bet you’d look real cute actually. Put you on my arm and show you off all night_.”

“What are you doing? Training?” Prompto asks, diverting the conversation before he expires.

“ _Mhm, was about to spar with Dad, actually,_ ” Gladio explains, “ _It’s been a while_.”

“Wah! Get off the phone and do it, he must be so annoyed with me,” Prompto whines.

“ _Not at all_ ,” Gladio soothes, “ _He was as concerned about you as I was_.”

“I need to get a suit,” Prompto tells him.

“ _But you don’t need to spend all your money on one_ ,” Gladio says again, “ _We’ll work something out_.”

“You know I can just go buy one,” Prompto says, “I’ll just go get a suit and then all this will be over.”

“ _Did Iggy give you the dress code already_?” Gladio asks.

“The - what?”

Gladio laughs but it’s not _mean_ , “ _You can totally buy a suit if that’s what you want but arrange to go with Iggy, okay? I’d take you but I’m shit at this stuff. Iggy will make sure you don’t get ripped off and that it all fits right, okay?_ ”

“Okay,” Prompto agrees because not getting ripped off and his suit _actually_ fitting sounds real good.

“ _Your class must be soon_ ,” Gladio says, “ _And Dad’ll fall asleep if I keep him waiting any longer._ ”

In the back ground Prompto hears a _You’re not too big for a clip round the ear you know_.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Prompto says laughing, “Give Rosie a big kiss from me.”

\- - -

Ignis turns up at his apartment Saturday morning bright and early to take him suit shopping before his shift at _Sakana_.

With a garment bag already over his arm.

Prompto frowns at it.

“Iggy,” Prompto says, “I thought we agreed.”

“We did,” Ignis says, “But I was sorting through Noct’s newest batch of offerings and I thought you might just _look_ at this grey one. It’s quite lovely, a slimmer cut that Noct prefers and I think you’d look particularly well in it.”

“I mean,” Prompto says, “I _guess_ that would be okay.”

Ignis smiles, “We will of course have to get accessories to wear with it - a waistcoat and tie and such.”

The suit ends up fitting well enough, it’s a little long in the arms and Ignis thinks the pants could do with being taken in around his calves a little. But it’s not _bad_ considering the suit had been made to Noct’s measurements.

And unsurprisingly Ignis knows a really good tailor to do the work both quickly and _well_.

It’s a really beautiful deep grey and if Prompto’s honest it’s kind of exactly what he was planning on picking out for himself.

“I like it,” Prompto admits a little begrudgingly.

Ignis smiles again and claps his hands together.

-

Prompto finds a beautiful royal blue bow tie with a metallic blue filigree of swirling thread stitched into it. The tailor says they don’t currently have a waistcoat that matches but they’ll happily make one for him.

“Do you have it in just a normal tie?” Prompto asks.

“Oh but you’d look _wonderful_ in the bow tie Prompto,” Ignis argues, “Here, let me.”

Obediently Prompto lifts his chin and Ignis turns up the collar on his shirt, sliding the bow tie around his neck and beginning to fasten it. Ignis tells him what he’s doing but Prompto’s definitely going to need to be taught again because he forgets what Iggy says the moment he says it.

“See,” Ignis says, turning Prompto so he faces the mirror.

“Huh,” Prompto says. He doesn’t _hate_ it, actually.

“Try it with this,” the tailor says and Prompto’s handed a waistcoat the same royal blue but without any of the embroidery.

Prompto buttons it over the white shirt and chews his lip.

“It doesn’t - doesn’t look dumb, right?”

Ignis shakes his head and the tailor looks on, half concerned half amused.

“Not at all,” Ignis says sincerely.

“And um, Gladio will like it?” Prompto asks face blushing.

“Gladio will _love_ it,” Ignis promises.

\- - -

Prompto had gotten an email from Vyv to say that they’d had some developments at _Meteor Publishing_ and could he give him a call to discuss what this might mean for Prompto.

Prompto had assumed that Meteor had hit some financial issues and weren’t going to be able to buy more pictures from him which, disappointing but not surprising. Instead Vyv had invited him down to their new office in _Insomnia_ so they could get him signed officially onto the books as a _contracted freelancer_.

So while Prompto's still going to be invoicing for his work and responsible for his own taxes he's now _guaranteed_ an assignment of four photographs a month with potential for more.

It doesn’t sound like a lot but it’s pretty much the same amount of money as he earns at _Sakana_ and Vyv had very strongly hinted it definitely would be more than four.

Their current photographer is staying behind in Lestallum, after all.

Prompto doesn’t know _why_ it surprises him to find Ignis waiting for him when he comes back out of the office, but it does.

Ignis steps forward from where he’s leaning against his sleek, black car and steps round to the trunk so Prompto can safely store his portfolio inside.

“Well?” Ignis says when Prompto continues along in stunned silence.

“I guess I’m a professional photographer now?” Prompto tells him but it sounds like a question.

“That’s wonderful,” Ignis says sincerely and he pulls Prompto in for a quick hug which Prompto is just about roused from his stupor enough to return.

“Thanks,” Prompto breathes.

“Lets drop this off at your apartment shall we,” Ignis says, steering him around to the front of the car, “Then I wouldn’t mind your help with the last minute preparations for our celebration with Noct this evening.”

“Of course!” Prompto says, brightening up remembering that today is in fact Noct's birthday, “I hope there’s stuff in the pond for Noct.”

\- - -

Iris knocks on the door to Gladio’s bedroom and Prompto lets his bow tie unravel as he calls her inside.

“Daddy just text me,” Iris says, “Nyx is on his way to get us.”

“Cool,” Prompto says, picking up the ends off his tie once more. He’s going to have to watch the video. Again.

Iris giggles, “Do you need some help?”

Meeting her eye in the mirror Prompto asks, “You know how to tie this?”

Iris nods and Prompto all but flings himself down to sit at the edge of the bed in relief.

“You look really pretty,” Prompto tells her because it’s true. Her dress is the softest of pinks, flowing past her knees with a sweetheart neckline. On the way from Prompto’s apartment he and Gladio had stopped by the florist to pick up the corsage of tiny pink roses her brother had ordered for her.

Iris blushes prettily, “Thank you.”

“How are you feeling about tonight?” Prompto asks her with more than a little concern.

“Excited,” Iris says and Prompto can tell she mostly means it.

“Even though - meeting Noct’s fiance and all that.”

Iris ducks her head slightly. They’ve never talked about it explicitly but Iris’ crush on Noct is plain for _everyone_ to see. As fruitless as her feelings may be they still exist.

“It’s not like I ever thought I stood a chance,” Iris admits quietly, “And Lady Lunafreya is _so_ wonderful.” Iris finishes fixing his bow tie and then steps back a half step. “All done,” she says.

“Thanks Iris,” Prompto says. He stands and checks his hair in the mirror one last time before reaching for his suit jacket.

Iris offers him a smile and says, “I’ll see you downstairs in a minute.”

“Oh hey,” Prompto says before she can leave, “For the record, you’re way too good for Noct but if you want to be upset I’m here to eat ice-cream and paint your nails and watch whatever cry-athon movie you want.”

Iris comes back into the room and throws her arm around Prompto’s middle, face pressed to his chest.

“Thanks,” she mumbles and Prompto rubs her back.

The doorbell rings but Prompto doesn’t rush to push her away, Jared is downstairs and Prompto knows Nyx won’t mind waiting.

“Gladdy’s got competition,” Iris whispers.

“Hmm?”

“For being the best big-brother.”

Prompto doesn’t cry. But it’s close.

-

Prompto tries not to let the fact that people are _looking_ at him bother him. Gladio’s holding his hand now and Rosie looks particularly cute with the bow he and Iris had affixed to her jersey so it’s not _all_ bad.

Rosie gives a low rumble, eager he thinks because she’s seen the other two dogs again.

Both were lying by Lunafreya’s feet but as they approach the white one – Pryna, Noct had told him - stands with her tail wagging, butting against Lunafreya’s legs to alert her. Like Rosie though she seems _excited_ rather than nervous or angry.

Umbra doesn’t rise though, just stays calmly where he is, watching them with intense eyes.

“Prompto!” Lunafreya says happily when she spots them approaching. Prompto drops Gladio’s hand and wipes his own against his jacket to get rid of the nervous sweat before holding it out to her.

A greeting is right on his lips but it dies when Lunafreya steps right around his hand to throw her arms around him in a hug.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Lunafreya says close to his ear, “Noctis has mentioned you in every letter he’s sent to me since the two of you met.”

Prompto forgets some of his nerves in place of raising his eyebrows and fixing his best friend with a teasing look, “Oh really?”

Lunafreya laughs as she pulls back.

Noct looks at Prompto flatly and says, “I actually hate you. Sorry to let you know.”

Lunafreya laughs so hard she has to put her hand over her mouth, pulling herself back together as she bends down to greet Rosie.

The princess holds out a hand towards Rosie and rather than sniffing it Rosie raises one paw and presses it against Luna’s palm.

“Well hello there sweet girl,” Lunafreya says before bending a little further to kiss Rosie’s head. Pryna pushes her way under Lunafreya’s arm to sniff at Rosie’s snout. And then they’re off circling each other as they try to get a get to know one another while Umbra looks on, calmly like he’s waiting for his sister to make a decision before he bothers to say hello at all.

Lunafreya straightens up again and takes one of Prompto’s hands in both of hers.

“Now,” she says, “You must call me Luna and we must arrange for you to come visit me here and show you some of your art and photographs.”

“I -” Prompto flounders a little under her enthusiasm and Gladio rubs across his shoulders just as Pryna and Rosie throw themselves on top of Umbra in a chorus of playful yips and growls.

As a group they watch for a minutes as twelve limbs scramble and fight for space until they’re lying down, pressed together like sardines in a neat little row.

Noct catches Prompto’s eye and says, “You remember how I’m just a person right?”

Prompto nods and Noct jerks his head towards Luna in a meaningful way that Prompto takes to mean _her too_.

“Right,” Prompto breathes and he gives the Princess of Tenebrae the least anxious smile he can muster, “Luna.”

\- - -

Noct can say what he likes about the Citadel but the beds are _comfy_.

Prompto wakes up before Gladio and seeing as Rosie isn’t staring at him to ask for a walk - not that he knows where he could take her right now - Prompto’s content to lay there and bask in satisfaction of last night.

He wonders if the sex will ever _stop_ just getting better and better.

Prompto hopes not but he supposes that _eventually_ age might come in to play. Though not for a long while yet.

Gladio’s hand presses a little tighter around his waist and lips sleepily mouth against his shoulder.

“Morning,” Gladio rumbles, voice rough and intimate in a way that makes Prompto’s belly lurch eagerly.

Prompto answers by turning around onto his side and pecking Gladio on the lips. Gladio sleepily cracks one eye open.

“S’early still,” Gladio mumbles, “Is Rosie fussing?”

“No,” Prompto says quietly, “Think she’s still sleepy for yesterday.”

“Long day,” Gladio says kissing him again.

Prompto shifts closer, pressing his hips against Gladio’s thigh so he can really _feel_ how awake Prompto is.

“Insatiable,” Gladio teases but he grabs hold of Prompto’s ass to grind them together.

“Not my fault,” Prompto says, “I was thinking about last night. It was amazing.”

“ _You_ were amazing,” Gladio says, “So beautiful.”

“Did you notice what I did?”

“Blew my mind, you mean,” Gladio says. He blinks and his eyes seem a little more alert this time.

“No,” Prompto mumbles with a soft laugh, “I came without you touching me.”

“Pretty sure I was touching you,” Gladio argues and he shifts a little until Prompto’s cock is presses between their bellies again like last night, only this time it’s nestled right up alongside Gladio’s.

Prompto lets loose a soft little moan before he can stop it and then wriggles back again so he can work Gladio’s hand between them to wrap around his dick.

“Not like this,” Prompto says.

“Not like this,” Gladio agrees, moving his hand slowly.

They shift, until Prompto’s on his back and Gladio’s partially over him with a little more space to work his hand.

“Think you can come untouched, do you?” Gladio murmurs, nosing into Prompto’s neck to start working him over with his teeth.

“I think I _did_ ,” Prompto says earnestly.

“Mmm. Bet you could do it properly,” Gladio says, “You’re so _sensitive_.”

Prompto’s been called sensitive before, but it’s usually with a tone of derision in regards to his personality and not said reverently about all the things his _body_ can do.

Gladio continues to stroke his dick, fist loose and teasing so Prompto supposes they won’t be getting around to _that_ this morning but it’s -

The short, sharp rap on their open bedroom door is preceded just milliseconds by Rosie’s excited bark.

Prompto’s glad they're under the covers.

“Good morning, Rosie,” Ignis says quietly before calling louder, “Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes. I’ll get Nyx to take Rosie down to the gardens while you both get ready.”

Gladio drops his head onto Prompto’s collarbone.

“Thanks Iggy,” Gladio calls back, “Are Dad and Iris coming? She was going to spend the day with him while he checked over Crownsguard training.”

“They and his Majesty have already joined us in Noct’s suite,” Ignis says, “I’ll see you both shortly?”

“Thanks Iggy,” Prompto says this time. He turns towards the door and can only _just_ see one of Iggy’s shoulders and assumes he had done his absolute best to give them privacy.

He knows what they’re like after all.

“And good morning!” Prompto calls more enthusiastically.

Ignis laughs, “Good morning, Prompto. Come on Rosie, lets give your father’s a moment, hmm?”

Rosie yips and the sound of her feet tapping across the wood flooring just about drowns out the sound of Iggy’s shoes.

Gladio groans and lets go of Prompto’s arousal to pat his hip instead.

“Rain check,” Gladio murmurs.

Prompto inhales,exhales and then squeaks out, “Am I about to have breakfast with the King?”

Gladio laughs and gives his hip another pat before rolling away and climbing off the bed.

“Probably want a shower before that, huh?”

\- - -

[Noct 20:34] does rosie not like certain things on the TV or?

[Noct 20:35] like if i play a violent video game will she get upset?

[Prompto 20:37] nah you’re good. just nothing that hurts dogs because their sad noise sets her off

[Noct 20:38] dude i would never

[Noct 20:39] gonna ban video games that kill dogs for the good of eos

[Prompto 20:40] i support you wholeheartedly in this endeavour

[Noct 20:41] go back to your date now

[Prompto 20:42] thanks uncle noct!

-

Gladio locks the screen on his phone and slips it onto the bedside table beside Prompto’s.

“Rosie’s sleeping in the bed with him and I think we might struggle to get her back from Noct,” Gladio tells him.

“I will commit regicide for the sake of our dog,” Prompto deadpans.

“You know that’s treason,” Gladio says and he catches both of Prompto’s wrists in his hands, pushing them up above his head, “And as the Shield to the future King it’s my responsibility to take you under arrest.”

“Oh no,” Prompto pretends to fret even as he's smiling, “Please, please, I’ll do _anything_.”

Gladio grins, “Anything, huh?”

Prompto bites his lip and nods. To his surprise Gladio drops his wrists.

Gladio sits up and pulls open the draw Prompto stores all his _bedtime_ essentials in and rummages for a couple seconds. His hand comes back holding lube and his little purple vibrator. Prompto shivers with excitement.

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said after Noct’s birthday,” Gladio says.

“Me too,” Prompto breathes.

Gladio sets the stuff down and then deftly pulls Prompto's underwear down, helping Prompto kick them down among the sheets but keeping his own in place.

“I don’t want to tie you up, not this time,” Gladio says, coming to kneel between Prompto’s thighs, “So can you promise to keep your hands to yourself?”

Prompto nods, “Can I still touch _you_?”

“Just don’t distract me,” Gladio says. Which Prompto takes to mean _don’t touch my dick until we’re done_.

Of course Gladio has to slick up his fingers and open him up that way, three fingers wide before he dares slide the molded plastic inside of him even though it's no match.

“Ngh,” Prompto groans, startled the first time Gladio slides it along his prostate.

Then Gladio presses the button on the bottom and it buzzes to life, low but intense against him. On instinct his hand flies towards his cock but Gladio intercepts, batting it away.

“Nuh uh,” Gladio says, “You wanted this. Remember?”

Prompto nods, breath already short just from this little amount of play.

Gladio laughs a little roughly and hooks Prompto’s thigh over his forearm. Normally Gladio would be holding him steady and still but when Prompto rocks down onto the toy to press it insistently against his sweet spot Gladio just encourages him.

“That’s it beautiful,” Gladio murmurs, “Whatever feels good.”

Gladio doesn’t exactly stay still either, he works the vibrator in and out of him, tugs at his rim with his fingers _just so_ and ramps the vibrations up and down without warning so each change is a thrilling jolt.

It’s like last time Gladio had used the toy on him, Prompto builds, builds, _builds,_ tight and taught with his release coming and escaping him over and over. Except this time it’s not Gladio bringing him back from the edge it’s his own body. His muscles constantly seize like he’s about to come but when they relax again there’s no relief just a building well of frustration.

Prompto chokes on a cry when it happens _again_ , panting and desperately _trying_ for something that’s absolutely within his grasp.

“Come _on_ , baby,” Gladio coos and he angles the vibrator so it’s brutal and _perfect_ against his insides.

Prompto’s so close he thinks he can _taste_ it in the back of his throat. When he blinks there’s moisture clinging to his eyelashes.

Prompto needs, he needs -

“Talk to me,” he gasps, “Gladio, _please_ , I -”

“What do you want me to say? Want me to tell you how pretty you look? How I wish it was me buried inside you right now?”

Prompto _keens_ , voice breaking, and Gladio’s fingers are suddenly against his hip, bruising tight as they help Prompto rock his hips into the pleasure.

“You’re going to look so amazing, Prom,” Gladio goes on, “Gods Freckles you’re gonna make such a mess aren’t you, you’re just gonna come _all over_ -”

And Prompto _does_.

Gladio hold him steady through it as his hips crash back down on the bed and his thighs tremble. Prompto hears the noise of the vibrator cut off before he’s cognisant of the fact it’s not inside him any more.

“I got you,” Gladio says, “I got you, love.”

Prompto’s thigh is set down and then Gladio is moving over him, covering Prompto’s body warm and sturdy and _safe_. Gladio reaches to brush moisture from Prompto’s cheeks and then Prompto’s being kissed, soft at first and then more urgently as he gets his faculties back together to respond.

“Mmmf,” Prompto moans, “Gladio, Gladio.”

“You’re amazing,” Gladio murmurs, “Astrals. I can’t believe -”

Gladio’s hand moves away from Prompto’s face then and he feels it squeeze between their bodies to take his own erection in his fist.

Prompto whines and tries to take over but he’s clumsy and uncoordinated and only when Gladio takes his hand and guides it around him does he manage to feel Gladio’s girth against his palm. Gladio wraps his hand over the top of Prompto’s and works himself that way.

Gladio breathes roughly, warm puffs of damp air against Prompto’s cheek as Prompto tries to squeeze his hand the way Gladio likes and make the little noises that normally drive him wild.

Prompto wants to give Gladio at least something of what Prompto had just felt.

Gladio bursts with little fanfare, a rough _fuck_ and damp splatter against Prompto’s fingers.

Prompto’s the one that’s boneless, the one that feels like all his bones were liquefied but it takes them both a few long minutes to catch their breath. Soft kisses and mess smeared between their bellies they hold each other tight as they recover. Prompto giggles lightly as the realisation of what happened washes over him.

“Shower,” Gladio mumbles, “Astrals we need a shower.”

He chuckles and kisses along Prompto’s jaw.

“No shower,” Prompto complains, whining when Gladio starts to climb off of him, “Sleepy.”

“We’re not sleeping in this,” Gladio grumbles, “Shower and new sheets.”

-

“See,” Gladio whispers smugly, kissing behind his ear, “Better right?”

“Than sleeping in a puddle of my own splooge? Yeah, this is better.”

Some of Gladio’s damp hair tickles his neck when he presses his face close into Prompto’s throat.

“You know how hard that was for me?”

“Hmm?” Prompto murmurs, “Seemed pretty easy to me.”

“No I mean,” Gladio chuckles, “Seeing you _so_ close like that and not able to do anything about it.”

Prompto shifts to nestle further in Gladio’s hold. Not that he _can_ get much closer, Prompto’s bed pretty much takes care of that for them.

“You could have,” Prompto points out. It would have been only too easy, Gladio’s hand just inches away from where a few rough strokes would have had him easily finding his peak.

“But you didn’t want me to,” Gladio says like it’s the most important thing in the world.

It makes Prompto smile.

Gladio adjusts again, so he’s more normally settled against the pillows. After a few minutes of quiet he says, “You kept it.”

“Huh?” Prompto rolls over onto his back so he can see his boyfriend, following the line of his eyes to where he’s looking up at the cork board hanging above his bed frame.

“Your _Solarium_ ticket stub,” Gladio explains, “You still have it.”

“Well yeah,” Prompto mumbles, blushing even in the dim light of the room, “That night ranks up there as one of the best, most important of my life.”

Gladio kisses his cheek, “I still have mine too. Tucked in my wallet with the picture of Iris and my Mom.”

“Oh,” Prompto says simply.

“Better get me a little picture soon,” Gladio tells him.

\- - -

Prompto tears off a sliver of chickatrice and holds it out for Rosie to see before drawing a circle above her head with it.

Obediently she turns in a tight little circle and then sits down again, butt on the floor but almost _quivering_ with excitement.

“Good girl,” Prompto tells her earnestly and she snarfs up the meat.

\- - -

Prompto throws a ball across the larger of the Citadel gardens and Rosie, Umbra and Pryna all race to reach it first. Rosie’s in the lead because she’s bigger - and younger - but she’ll probably give it up to one of the other two during the playful scuffle that’s about to happen.

Prompto glances over at the bench where Noct and _Luna_ are sat together, Gladio stood just off to one side, and then quickly looks away again.

Prompto’s trying to remind himself that Luna is just Luna, a young person like them and it should be easy because it’s beyond easy with Noct but in the back of his head Prompto just cannot shake the fact that the Princess of Tenebrae is currently looking through his portfolio.

“Oh these are wonderful,” Prompto hears her enthuse softly, “I wish I could see the painting he did for you.”

“I have a good picture of it,” Noct tells her, “I can show you on my laptop later.”

\- - -

[Noct 09:17] happy birthday dude!!!!!!!!!!!

[Prompto 09:18] too many !! did you fall asleep on your phone?

[Prompto 09:25] dude??

-

[Iggy 09:30] Happy Birthday, Prompto! I look forward to seeing you later.

[Prompto 09:31] thanks iggy! do i need to bring or do anything for tonight?

[Iggy 09:32] Nothing at all. Nyx will pick you both up from school and Luna, Gladio and myself will have everything in place here.

[Prompto 09:33] thanks <3

-

“So what did Gladio get you?” Noct asks as they file out of their Literature class.

Prompto kind of likes the class. Noct not so much. But then he’s probably - definitely - not going through the class with all Gladio’s dogeared and note riddled copies of the classics.

“A new portfolio, it’s _really_ nice - like so nice I’m scared to use it.”

Noct hums thoughtfully, “He didn’t get you anything fun?”

 _Noct_ had gotten him a remastered trilogy of games Prompto had missed out on as a kid, a card for premium online content tucked into the case.

“He got me those graphic novels too - the one about the vampire that doesn’t realise he’s a vampire until he tries to eat his boyfriend’s garlic bread and almost dies.”

Noct snorts, “I’ll borrow them when you’re done please and thank you.”

“You got it.”

Nyx waves them over and when they’re with reach he scoops Prompto into him for a hug and a rough ruffle to his hair.

“ _Nyx_ ,” Prompto complains, laughing, “You _suck_.”

“Happy birthday, blondie,” Nyx says, “Ready for your party?”

“Is it really a _party_?” Prompto checks.

Nyx goes to answer but Noct cuts across, “It’s a gathering. A _small_ gathering.”

Prompto squints at him.

“Come on,” Noct laughs, “You know the food will be good.”

“Iggy’s been working all day,” Nyx concurs.

Noct groans and Prompto feels his face pinch.

“ _All day_?” Prompto checks, “I said I didn’t was a fuss.”

“What, no, Prom. This is the kind of work Igs likes,” Nyx tells him, “He wanted to do this for you.”

“Come on,” Noct says before Prompto can protest more, “It’s your birthday so you can hook your phone into the speakers in the car.”

Prompto perks but Nyx groans dramatically - mostly for affect Prompto thinks.

Prompto plays some inoffensive peppy rock music but they’ve barely pulled away from the university when the music cuts out and his ring tone takes it’s place.

“Ugh,” Prompto says, “It’s Linc.”

“Ooo, leave it on speaker,” Noct says from the back seat.

Prompto hesitates but presses the button on the car’s fancy interface to connect the call.

“Hello?”

“ _Argentum_ ,” Linc says, “ _We’re short so I need you to start at six_.”

“I’m not working today,” Prompto says at once.

“ _Change of plans_ ,” Linc says shortly, “ _Be here at six_.”

“No,” Prompto says firmly, surprising himself.

Nyx catches his eyes while he’s driving and gives an encouraging nod.

“ _If you’re not here at six then don’t bother coming in for the rest of the month.”_

Prompto flinches. That’s so _unfair_. It’s Prompto’s birthday and he’d booked this off way back in August, he and Linc had an _agreement_.

“Well maybe I just won’t bother coming in for the rest of my life.”

Silence swells in the car and Prompto catches sight of Nyx’s grin before he glances into the rear view mirror to see Noct’s gaping mouth.

 _What is he doing?_ Did he just - did he just quit his job?

“ _Look here you piece of shit. You should be_ thanking _me. No one else would have given a Niff bastard with dodgy papers a chance like I did you worthless little -_ ”

Noct scrambles between the seats to slam his hand against the console so the call disconnects.

“I don’t disapprove of your actions,” Nyx says, “But please sit back and put your seat belt on. Iggy’ll have my balls if he ever saw that.”

Noct slides back enough to snap his seat belt in to place but remains stretched forward so he can place his hand on Prompto’s shoulder.

“What he said is bullshit, Prom,” Noct says, “You’re amazing -”

“Did I just quit my job?” Prompto ask, voice embarrassingly high.

Calmly Nyx says, “Yes. And rightly so.”

“ _Oh Gods_.”

“Hey,” Nyx says as firmly as Noct’s hand on Prompto’s shoulder, “You did the right thing, you shouldn’t have to work for a guy that’s going to talk to you like that.”

“ _But_ -”

“No buts,” Noct cuts across, “That was amazing. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself.”

Prompto doesn’t respond and the car lapse into silence, the only thing keeping Prompto grounded to earth the hand on his shoulder.

What is he going to do about money? He _needs_ that job, his scholarship doesn’t cover all of his expenses. Sure he has the stuff with Vyv now but is it _really_ enough to make do?

They roll through the Citadel gates and, thankfully, being with the Prince today excuses Prompto from having to dig out his security pass at the top of the stairs.

“Is he okay?” Prompto is aware of Nyx whispering.

“Give him a minute,” Noct says back, “Prom like space to think about stuff sometimes.”

A couple seconds pass, “Though this _might_ be too long.”

A door clicks open and -

“ _Happy Birthday!”_

Prompto blinks. He’d actually forgotten why they were here and what day it is and Noct has to tug on his elbow to lead him into the room.

“Prom?” Gladio’s voice says before he warm hands touch his jaw.

“He’s freaking out,” Noct says simply.

“What happened?” Gladio asks and Prompto blinks again, focusing on his boyfriends concerned but always handsome face.

“I was reckless,” Prompto tells him, admitting it for once.

“You were _awesome_ ,” Noct puts across.

“What _happened_?” Gladio almost begs. His hand trails across Prompto’s arm and up his neck, searching for what Prompto doesn’t know.

“Are you hurt?” Gladio asks.

“I quit my job,” Prompto says, voice just a little shaky.

“Good,” Gladio says immediately, surprising him, “You earn enough from Vyv not to need it.”

“Do I?”

“I can look at your budget for you,” Ignis says at once, “But from what I’ve seen you should manage.”

Prompto nods, not completely convinced but -

The _basic_ work from Vyv almost matches what he earned at _Sakana_ , he’d thought that when he first got the offer. And yeah, it’s only been a couple months but he’s always gotten extra work so far.

Astrals Prompto hasn’t actually even spent all the money from that first sale yet.

“Why _today_ , Prompto?” Luna asks, curious but kind.

Prompto shakes his head and makes more of an effort to focus on his surroundings. His _birthday_ party. Thrown for him by all his friends.

“My boss called and told me to come in to work even though -”

“You booked that off _weeks_ ago,” Gladio interrupts, anger obviously spiking.

“So I sad _no_ and he said _if you don’t come in today don’t bother coming in for the rest of the month._ So I said _maybe I won’t bother coming in for the rest of my life_ and then he said a bunch of mean stuff and that's how I quit my job and also I never want to see sushi again,” Prompto blurts all in one breath.

Prompto expects them to laugh, or agree that _yes_ that was reckless and maybe Prompto should have thought about it more first.

Instead Gladio asks, “How mean?”

Because of course all Gladio worries about is how Prompto’s _feeling_.

“Don’t worry about it,” Prompto soothes him, sure it’s a bad look if the Prince’s Shield gets arrested for assaulting an independent business owner.

Noct shifts and Prompto turns to hit his arm gently and stop him from spilling all the details. Prompto will tell Gladio later, when they’re alone and he can keep Gladio _calm_. Noct rolls his eyes but keeps his mouth firmly clamped shut for a change.

Luna edges forward and Prompto goes to her, meeting her much more easily for a hug that last time.

Prompto’s going to focus on celebrating his _birthday_ with his _friends_. For the second year in a row. Holy shit.

It’s all so different to last year too, what were he and Gladio at his birthday last year? Basically nothing.

“Happy birthday,” Luna says again as they pull apart, “Your gifts are on the table.”

“Ah thanks, Luna,” Prompto says awkwardly. _Gifts_.

Prompto glances at the dogs, almost besides themselves with excitement and he and Luna share a laugh as he steps by her to greet them.

Umbra simply brushes against his side when he kneels down but Rosie and Pryna clamour for pets and fussing. Rosie’s _very_ eager today and Prompto wonders if they had to leave her alone for a little while to get everything sorted.

“Where the fuck was my kiss?” Gladio suddenly says and in the distraction of turning to look at him Rosie manages to lick right across the bridge of his nose.

\- - -

[Prompto 16:21] tell Luna thanks for the paintbrushes again please. they’re amazing.

[Prompto 16:23] [Image 28431.jpg]

[Prompto 16:24] lil watercolour dogpile

[Noct 16:34] luna says she loves this and can she have it

[Noct 16:36] please. she wanted me to tell you she said please.

[Prompto 16:37] (゜ロ゜)

[Prompto 16:38] i will do her a better one

\- - -

[Iggy 17:21] It’s less money that we would have paid a ‘more professional’ as you called it photographer and you’re likely to get better shots than them.

[Prompto 17:23] just seems like a lot of money to get paid to take pictures of my bestie and his pretty fiancee

[Prompto 17:24] like holy shit iggy they’re so beautiful together, it’s a photographers dream

[Iggy 17:25] Careful now or I’ll have to give you an enthusiasm pay rise.

\- - -

“You’re so _bad_ at this,” Prompto tells Noct as he adjusts a setting on his camera.

It’s _his_ camera they’re using but Iggy had arranged for a tonne of other stuff for him. He wonders if people are judging him for making use of little other than a tripod and a reflector to make better use of the natural light flooding in through the tall windows.

“Shut up,” Noct complain scowling a little.

That’s not quite the smile Prompto was after but he thinks it’s better than the constipated looking _fake_ smile Noct forces onto his face whenever an _official_ camera is near him.

Luna giggles and Noct’s face softens as he turns his head slightly to look at her.

Prompto takes a half dozen shots rapid fast to catch the expression before it goes away again.

The last shot of the bunch is the best, Noct's looking at her and Luna’s laugh subsided to a warm smile. Prompto thinks he can get better out of Noct, sure, but if he doesn’t manage he thinks Iggy will be happy with that one.

Prompto stands them up as the light dips a little lower, wanting a shot of them silhouetted by the window. He also tells them he needs a minute to change some settings even though he doesn’t really but it encourages them to just sort of _exist_.

Prompto gets a shot of Noct adjusting the short train of Luna’s dress for her and then one of them turned towards the window with Noct pointing out something on the Insomnia skyline to his fiance. Sure their backs are turned but they’re close and intimate and it’ll be a nice filler shot for the magazine or wherever some of these are going.

The real winner though is the moment Prompto catches when Luna ducks her head a little and a lock of her blond hair falls free from it’s elegant twist. Prompto’s about to call her her lady to come in but Noct simply reaches for the lock and tucks it back in, up and away behind her ear as they gaze at each other.

Prompto’s _really_ happy for his friend.

\- - -

“You promise?” Prompto asks ever aware that he has been _difficult_ the past few weeks.

Finals were a mess. A literal mess.

All over Gladio’s apartment.

Prompto stayed at his place for two weeks solid, going home just one time to pick up a spare pack of pencils. About midway through the second week Prompto had kind of forgotten he didn’t actually live there. That he didn’t belong in that apartment with Rosie and Gladio all the time.

Sure feels like he does though.

He’d over compensated after by spending five at his own place not realising until too late _that_ was probably upsetting to his boyfriend and dog too.

Then he’d only gotten one night wrapped up in Gladio’s bed again before his boyfriend was reminding him that Prompto and Rosie are staying with Noct for a couple days while Gladio has some workmen in to deal with a plumbing issue in his main bathroom.

So all told Prompto went from spending _every day_ in two weeks at Gladio’s apartment to spending just _one_ in two weeks and Prompto does not like it. Nope, not at all.

“I absolutely promise,” Gladio says, “No anniversary presents. Just Solstice.”

Prompto sighs, relieved. He’s actually fine money-wise, his friends were all correct about that prediction and Prompto really just wishes he’d quit sooner. Though he does miss going in and finding out what colour Erin’s hair is on any given day of the week.

But being _fine_ money-wise and being able to keep up with Gladio for a back to back spending bonanza are not the same thing.

“And you’re sure you’re fine with breakfast?” Gladio asks then, “Dad and Iris won’t mind - Iris was kind of _offended_ when I first said our anniversary was this Thursday and we were still coming for dinner.”

“More than fine,” Prompto says, “I really like them, you know. The family dinners. They’re _nice_.”

Gladio squeezes his hand and the rattles Rosie’s leash with the other.

“Those ones are too big, Rosie,” Gladio tells her and she turns away from the giant Solstice trees and trots beside them as they make their way through the lot, trying to find the ones that aren’t much taller than Gladio.

“Probably needs to be narrow too, huh?”

Gladio shrugs, “I don’t mind shifting things around. I want your first Solstice tree to be whatever you want it to be.”

“Even if I wanted to flock the whole thing and only choose pink decorations?”

“Even then,” Gladio promises easily. Probably because he’s seen and been adding to the big box of bronze and copper coloured ornaments over the past week or so.

Prompto absolutely does not want to flock the tree, he wants it looking alive and _green_ for as long as possible. He likes the Amicitia tree, tall and imposing in the living room with a collection of ornaments from over the years - ceramic letters for each family member, hand crafted things from when Iris and Gladio were small.

Maybe over time he and Gladio can create a collection of their own.

\- - -

Gladio helps Prompto step up into the bath - new, huge, _amazing_ \- but to his utter dismay doesn’t immediately climb in behind him, instead turns and leaves the bathroom altogether.

“Abandoning me on our anniversary is mean,” Prompto calls.

Gladio’s back a scant minute later, still gloriously naked but now carrying a vase stuffed full with beautiful yellow sunflowers. Gladio sets them down on the side next to the sink so Prompto has a perfect view of their vibrant petals.

“Cheater,” Prompto mumbles but he’s _smiling_ , all teeth and dimples.

“Mhm,” Gladio murmurs and Prompto unnecessarily scoots forward so Gladio can settle back against the end of the tub, legs spread ready for Prompto’s to curl up between.

“I love sunflowers,” Prompto admits laying back against Gladio’s chest and tucking his head into Gladio’s shoulder.

Maybe he shouldn’t complain about the small gift,not when he wiled away a couple hours that should have been spent studying for finals carefully crafting Gladio a card. Noct had snuck him into the armoury and Prompto had sketched and photographed Gladio’s sword for reference and Prompto had painstakingly detailed it onto a card, surrounded it with blooms and coloured it in with the rich, warm tones Gladio prefers.

“I know,” Gladio murmurs, “And they remind me of you. So win-win for both of us.”

“You know the real win?” Prompto asks.

Gladio pets around his waist under the water and Prompto decides to take that for a good enough answer.

“This bath is the win,” Prompto says, “I could _live_ in here.”

Gladio snorts and nuzzles into his damp hairline, “Would you come visit the rest of the apartment from time to time?”

“I guess,” Prompto says, “For food and stuff. Can we stay a while?”

“As long as you like,” Gladio promises, “Cafe serves breakfast _all day_.”

-

Prompto doesn’t really pay attention to what Gladio orders for breakfast, just knows that it’s probably a lot of food because that’s what his boyfriend needs to like exist.

The server leaves with their orders and comes back just a few minutes later with their coffees and a bowl of mixed chop fruit for Prompto.

Gladio rifles through the sugar packets to dig out the sweetener packets Prompto likes before even touching his own cup and if Prompto wasn’t already ridiculously in love with him he would have fallen head first right then.

“You really don’t have to work today?” Prompto asks.

Gladio takes a sip of his coffee and shakes his head, “Dad said I should take the day. He and Nyx have got Noct - it’s just following him to boring meetings anyway.”

Prompto winces around some watermelon, “I’ll text him later, give him something fun to look at it.”

“You’re amazing,” Gladio tells him, “None of us deserve you.”

Prompto ducks his head shyly and eats some more of his fruit, picking around the banana slices he doesn’t _really_ like knowing Gladio will eat them after his own breakfast. Gladio won’t eat fruit _before_ his bacon because he’s weird.

Heels clack against the floor.

“Strawberry pancakes with chocolate syrup on the side and and our sausage, egg, bacon, pancake combo with double bacon?”

“Thanks!” Prompto says happily, absolutely ready for sugar, chocolate, carb mountain.

She walks away and Prompto tells Gladio, “We even have the same server as last time. You think she remembers us?”

Gladio shrugs but he’s smiling.

Happily Prompto takes a strawberry off the top of his pancake stack and dunks it into the chocolate sauce before cutting out a small wedge of fluffy pancakes and doing the same.

Gladio moves one of the sausage links on his plate to start cutting into it and Prompto’s eyes fall to the stack of bacon. Prompto likes a little salt with his breakfast he just doesn’t want it on his actual plate.

Gladio’s grin stretches and he turns his plate so the stack of bacon is closest to Prompto.

“Here, babe,” Gladio says simply and Prompto reaches right out and snatches a greasy, crispy rasher.

Prompto’s happily eating it when Gladio says, “I got you something.”

Prompto frowns across the table at him, “You mean more than the card and the sunflowers even though we said we weren’t doing gifts because its so close to Solstice?”

“You also got me a card so hush,” Gladio says with a chuckle, “More effort in fact because you made it.”

Gladio had really loved it, put it up on display on his book case in full view. Talked about getting a frame for it.

“Still,” Prompto argues, shifting uncomfortably

“It’s not much,” Gladio reassures him, “But I really want you to have it.”

Gladio suddenly holds out a little silver wrapped box, paper a little crooked with no special embellishments. Prompto’s heart still thumps erratically as he takes it.

"I didn’t get you _anything_ ,” Prompto complains.

“I think - hope - you’re about to,” Gladio says, “So don’t worry.”

That doesn’t make much sense to Prompto but he drops the last bit of his bacon onto his plate and tears into the packaging.

It’s -

It takes Prompto a minute to piece it together.

Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten it at all if it wasn’t for the word _home_ hanging from the key chain, sturdy and weighty and _real_. A sword for Gladio, a paw-print for Rosie and a beautiful fine chocobo feather for Prompto.

Home.

 _Home_.

Prompto presses it tight in a trembling fist, _glad_ that the edges are pressing almost painfully against his palm. To remind him it's real.

“Is this - does it mean what I think it means?” Prompto blurts, voice wet, “I need you to just spell it out because if I’m wrong -”

“Move in with me, Freckles?” Gladio says quickly, “Full time, no more of this not being together rubbish.”

Prompto sniffs back a sob and whispers, “I’m so mad at you.”

“What? Why? Baby,” Gladio says, obviously panicked, “If you’re not ready -”

Prompto shakes his head quickly, “It’s not that.” Prompto’s more than ready, he’s been ready. He can’t afford it, sure, but they can work that out later. Gladio wants him there, all the time. No more being apart. Just them together in their _home_.

“Just - you asked me in public so I can’t kiss you like I want and also I’m definitely going to cry all over my delicious pancakes. In public.”

Gladio laughs and reaches to take his hand, giving the one not clutching Prompto’s new favourite thing an affectionate squeeze.

“I love you,” Gladio murmurs, “Is that a yes?”

-

Gladio got him a _room_.

Gladio can pretend he didn’t make it for Prompto all he likes but Prompto can tell. The blue couch and the empty frames on the walls waiting for his _art_ and the _easel_ make it pretty obvious.

“You like it?” Gladio asks softly when they’re cuddled together on said couch. There’s two seats but obviously Gladio’s lap is the only place Prompto will ever sit of he has the chance.

Prompto ducks into Gladio’s neck and tells him, “I can’t afford half the rent here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gladio says easily, “All that stuffs handled.”

“I have to do my part,” Prompto insists. Prompto doesn’t know _how_ he’ll do his part but he needs to _try_.

“I just want you here,” Gladio says holding Prompto almost crushingly tight to his chest, “It’s where you belong.”

Belong. It’s where Prompto _belongs_.

“Who knew you were asking me?” Prompto asks. He wants to know how this managed to come as a complete surprise and not one person thought to _warn_ him.

“Noct, Iggy and Luna helped me pick out all the colours,” Gladio explains, “Because I wanted it done before you moved here, so you had space if you wanted it but my eye is terrible.”

Prompto pulls back sharply, surprised.

“Noct helped?”

“Mostly he agreed with whatever Luna said,” Gladio confirms.

“No no, I mean, Noct _knew_?” Prompto clarifies.

“Well I needed his blessing,” Gladio teases.

Dramatically Prompto flops back down against Gladio’s chest.

“He’s really good at keeping stuff from me for someone that doesn’t like secrets,” Prompto complains.

His best friend has some explaining to do.

-

Clarus hugs him when he finds out he’s moving in and when they leave later that night he hugs Prompto again and says, “See you at Solstice, son.”

\- - -

“Don’t be nervous,” Clarus tells him kindly, a warm hand on the back of his head, “You did wonderfully at Noctis’ birthday and this is _much_ less formal that that.”

“Right,” Prompto says, giving him as much of a smile as he can muster. The formality of Noct’s birthday helped though, it felt like a shield. If this is casual, if the formalities are all torn away then people might actually try and _talk_ to him.

Prompto had remembered Gladio’s words from last year, of how he’d eaten too many waffles at breakfast and not really been hungry by dinner time. That’s not actually an issue for Gladio but it might be for Prompto. As such he’d only eaten one of Clarus’ - _Jared’s_ \- excellent waffles and maybe if he wasn’t already hungry again right now he’d be able to handle the onslaught of anxiety better.

“We’ll be sat with everyone,” Gladio says, “Remember all the councillors and stuff don’t come in until the drinking part.”

“Right,” Prompto says again. Iris slips herself under his arm.

“I wanna sit with, Prompto,” Iris says and Prompto smiles, kissing the crown of her head.

“We’ll all be sitting with Prompto,” Gladio points out.

And sure enough when they settle down for the meal it’s only a table of about twenty people, only about six of whom aren’t actually in some way part of Noct’s extended and chosen family.

Nyx catches Prompto's eye somewhere between the roast potatoes and the apple tarts and tells him, “It’s my first year, too.”

“For real?” Prompto asks.

“Normally I’m stood by the door,” Nyx says and Ignis nods his agreement.

“Nyx always graciously offers to stand guard and let others have the holidays free,” Regis cuts across, only five seats away from Prompto. Regis raises his glass to Nyx and Nyx bows his head respectfully.

“These are your best tarts ever, Iggy,” Iris pipes up, scooping up a huge spoonful topped with ice cream.

“Thank you,” Ignis says, “Prompto had the exceptional idea to put cinnamon in the crust and it works quite wonderfully.”

“Good job, baby,” Gladio says, “These are fantastic.”

A number of heads at the other end of the table flicker their way, the select councilmen invitees who Prompto has yet to be formally introduced. Prompto senses some displeasure in the gazes. One even drops his spoon noisily into his bowl and pushes it away.

No one else seems to notice.

Prompto blushes, “I didn’t really _do_ anything.” Prompto tugs on the sleeve of his new sweater over his tattoos and tries to sink back into his chair. Out of sight.

Gladio’s hand finds his thigh under the table and gives him a little squeeze. Prompto raises his face to meet his eyes and answers Gladio’s concerned frown with a reassuring smile.

-

It’s snowing in Insomnia - still - but Prompto doesn’t mind it so much when Gladio and Nyx are off getting them all drinks and Noct and Luna are giggling just off to his right and he’s full and warm and happy.

“- can’t believe they bought him here.”

“Bad enough the Shield is _laying_ with a _man_ but to flaunt it around the Citadel.”

Prompto feels a frisson of alarm.

They’re talking about _him_ , he’s sure. There’s nothing else it could be.

Ignis is suddenly there then standing before him to place a gentle hand on his arm.

“Lets go outside,” Ignis says, “You’ll enjoy the -”

“Excuse _me_?” Noct’s voice suddenly says and Prompto’s alarm rises.

Oh no. _Oh no no no_.

“Apologies, Your Highness,” someone says and Prompto recognises the voice from outside Regis office before their trip. Tameo.

“I’m not the one you need apologise to,” Noct snaps and Prompto hears Ignis expel a puff of air through his nose. He gives Prompto an apologetic, imploring look before moving to stand by Noctis’ side.

“I did not mean for you to overhear,” Tameo says, “We understand you are unduly _attached_ -”

“ _Unduly_?”

“To someone so unsuitable to be connected with the crown, I mean.”

Prompto watches Noct bristle and immediately goes forward to comfort him, wanting to calm him down so Noct doesn’t make a scene, not today.

Not about him.

Luna intercepts him and Prompto stills under the gentle pressure of her hand on his arm.

“Lets go outside,” Luna says softly.

Prompto shakes his head, he needs to be with Noctis, with Gladio he needs -

“- ruin the Amicitia line - the young Shield should have kept his perversions to himself and done his duty just like anyone else -”

“I would suggest you stop in this line, Councillor Tameo,” Ignis says then voice _cold._

It’s not just that he’s from Niflheim. It’s that he’s a _man_.

Of course it is.

All the legislation in the world won’t stop the way people think. Prompto’s been so dumb, just because people haven’t been jeering at him in the streets and he _can_ get married here doesn’t mean that people want him to, doesn’t mean the populace supports his right to do so.

“Prom,” Luna says gently, arm around his shoulders, “Let us go outside, dear.”

Prompto turns with her and allows himself to be pulled outside.

He’s heard enough now.

“Ignore them,” Luna implores him as they step out onto a balcony, “Please Prompto.”

Prompto refuses, refuses, _refuses_ to cry here where these men could see and take advantage of his weakness. He squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to try and focus on the _snow_.

How hard it must be for Gladio every day now they’re officially together? Does this happen every day? Is he forced to do his job to the undercurrent of horrid whispers and hateful speech.

“It’s alright, Rosie,” Prompto hears Noct says and he cracks his eyes open again to realise that Luna still has him safely under her arm and Rosie is agitated before him, unsure what to do now that Prompto finds himself in a position unable to comfort her.

Ignis holds out a glass of water, “Drink some of this please.”

“M’fine,” Prompto argues.

Gladio’s the one that must be suffering nowadays - because of _him_ \- this never would have happened if not for Prompto.

“Prom…” Noctis says.

“You’ve had a bit of a shock, Prompto. I’d very much like it if you could have a drink for me.”

Prompto nods but can’t seem to raise his hands to take the glass. Ignis doesn’t even hesitate just steps a little closer to press the glass to his mouth and help him take a sip.

It’s cool and refreshing and revitalising and somehow doesn’t make Prompto feel any better.

The balcony door clicks shut with a sound not dissimilar to a gunshot and Prompto looks up to find Gladio out on the balcony with him.

Prompto darts out, ducking around Iggy’s still outstretched glass and almost straight tripping over Rosie so he can throw himself into Gladio’s chest with enough force to make him go _oof_ very softly.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Prompto says fervently while Gladio catches his breath and gets his arms around Prompto’s shoulders. One of Gladio’s hands lands low on his back, warm even through his sweater and so, so grounding.

“What?” Gladio asks urgently and the hand on his back is moved to push the hair back from Prompto’s face but he doesn’t mind because that’s pretty great too.

“I didn’t know - I thought it was different here. I didn’t realise -” Prompto babbles.

“It _is_ different here,” Noct stresses desperately, “Prom, _please_.”

“Noct said that law was old - I didn’t know that people still thought -”

“That law _was_ old,” Gladio tells hi confidently, “And so were those people. People that matter don’t care. I swear Prompto. Nothing happened - nothings been bad since we’ve been together. The opposite in fact, it’s been _amazing_.”

It’s like Gladio knows, just like he always does, exactly what Prompto needs to hear, just what Prompto needs to know to set his mind at ease.

Prompto inhales deeply, finds his eyes a little damp and attempts to sniff back an oncoming downpour.

“Really?” Prompto checks.

“Really, really,” Gladio says and he gives Prompto a soft little smile that makes his belly turn over pleasantly, “I don’t give a shit about them, I’d like if you could try and feel that way too.”

“Okay -” Prompto nods even though he’s not sure he _can_ just ignore people talking crap about him and the best man he knows, “- Okay, I’ll _try_.”

Gladio bends to press a reassuring kiss against Prompto’s mouth and Prompto returns it as best he can, still a little shook up.

“Love you,” Prompto reminds him in a whisper.

Gladio only responds with another kiss but Prompto can _feel_ the words being poured into him.

“Drinks,” Ignis says suddenly, “I’ll get them.”

-

Rosie’s warm against his back, breathing steady against him and Gladio’s before him, strong and sturdy and wonderful.

Rosie doesn’t often sleep in the bed with them but she’s still a little shaken from Prompto’s episode earlier and he can’t fault her for wanting to stay close. Honestly he likes it, he’ll never complain about her being close by.

“I hope you’ll come back next year,” Gladio says, soft edge of a tease in his voice.

Prompto smiles, “I think I’ll manage.”

Because even with some stuffy old men trying to make him feel bad for falling in love Prompto managed to have a good time. They’d spend a good hour or so out on that balcony, just the six of them and the dogs and by the time they’d gone back inside the councillors at fault were no longer there.

So Prompto had enjoyed the Solstice drinks and danced with Iris when no one else would and then snuck back out onto the balcony with just Gladio when the snow finally cleared so they could look out at the stars high above them and the blinking lights of the city.

“You know I have no regrets,” Gladio tells him, “Not one - apart from not being with you sooner.”

“Even though you could have fallen in love with a woman and none of this would matter?”

Because Gladio likes women, Prompto’s not under any uncertainty with that. He’s always known and he’s never cared. Love is love, you can’t help it, you can’t _chose_ it.

“Yeah but I didn’t fall in love with them, I fell in love with you,” Gladio says.

Prompto hums and squishes closer.

“I can’t wait to move in,” Prompto says.

“I can’t wait to have you home,” Gladio corrects.

\- - -

Prompto’s not _technically_ moved in yet but he hasn’t actually been back to his apartment since Gladio asked him.

Gladio is going to swing by on his way home from work just to grab a few bits and pieces and check nothing in the fridge has gone rancid. Prompto’s busy editing a couple last minute pictures for Vyv and there’s almost no reason for Prompto to have gone along as well.

And thus Prompto is alone in the apartment with Rosie.

There’s a brisk knock on the other side and somehow Prompto immediately knows it’s Ignis.

With Nyx as it turns out.

“Hey guys,” Prompto says, stepping back to let them inside even though Rosie makes that kind of hard by desperately trying to say hello before they’re even inside, “Gladio won’t be back for a couple hours.”

“No matter,” Ignis says and he _smiles_ but there’s something distinctly _off_ about the whole thing.

“I actually came to see you,” Ignis says and Prompto realises there’s a folder tucked between Iggy’s arm and his chest.

Prompto’s heart gives a lurch. Could this be it? Could Ignis have finally managed to arrange his citizenship? No student-working visa. No worry that he’ll be shipped back to Gralea the moment he graduates.

“Can I take Rosie for a walk while you chat?” Nyx asks then and Rosie perks up, eager as ever.

Oh. That's probably - it’s probably not _good_ news then.

Prompto helps Nyx get Rosie sorted and as they’re leaving Nyx gives him a kind of sad smile and his hair an affectionate rumple.

“Thanks, love,” Ignis tells Nyx at the door.

“Text if you need us back,” Nyx offers and he gives Iggy a kiss on the cheek before the door closes.

It’s definitely not good news.

Ignis walks to the couch and takes a seat, back straight and the closest to _uncomfortable_ Prompto’s ever seen him.

Prompto slowly makes his way over to settle at his side, half wishing Rosie was still here.

“You can’t get me citizenship, can you?” Prompto says, just wanting to know and have it over with.

Ignis blinks, “I certainly can. But you’re a special circumstance and it’s taking extra time.”

“Because of how I was made, right?"

Ignis flinches. Actually _flinches_.

“Iggy,” Prompto says urgently, “Are you okay?”

“I need to tell you something,” Ignis says quickly, “I’ve been putting it off because I don’t want to upset you but I think you _need_ to know and it’s certainly not okay that I know and you do not.”

Is it about Gladio? Noct? Is there some big secret that's been hitherto unknown to Prompto for whatever reason?

“Iggy…”

“The information listed about you on that _Gods forsaken_ database is wrong.”

It takes Prompto’s brain a minute to process the way Ignis blurts it out like it’s _hurting_ him before Prompto can even begin to consider what the words mean.

“I don’t understand,” Prompto admits.

Ignis takes a deep breath, “When you came to me to tell me about your past you said something in particular that stuck with me. Because it didn’t match up with information about you that I already have.”

“Because of my background check?” Prompto asks.

“Yes,” Ignis says and then he pulls out a sheet of paper from his folder, “You told me - _showed_ me that the database indicates you as having not had any parents at all. Ever. When I knew -”

Ignis hands him the paper and Prompto blinks down at it. It’s almost an identical printout from the database but headed with the Lucian crest and signed by _Cor Leonis_.

And everything is the same as Prompto knows it to be, except:

_Father: [Redacted]_

_Mother: [Redacted]_

“Redacted,” Prompto breathes, “Does that mean - that means the information was there but it’s been hidden, right?”

Ignis nods and Prompto jumps to his feet without thinking about it. The paper flutters to the ground.

“So I have -” his voice breaks “- I have _parents_.”

Ignis nods again.

“How do I - Iggy you have to help me find out who they are,” Prompto begs and starts pacing, “Why did they _hide it,_ what’s wrong?”

“Prompto, please,” Ignis says, “I already - I managed to find the information. Please.”

Prompto takes a deep breath to try and calm down and then carefully makes his way back to the couch. When he’s sat down Ignis puts his hand between his shoulder blades to rub his back gently.

“Where did you find it?” Prompto asks, not sure he’s quite ready to know _what_ the information is so closely on the back of everything else.

“The Marshal had it,” Ignis explains, “I believe he and Monica thought it best to keep this part of you private. They thought the truth would only be a disadvantage to you.”

“So it’s their fault I -”

Ignis rubs a little firmer at his back, “They weren’t happy with how Niflheim handled it. Not at all. The way they hid the information was not what was agreed. They were trying to right by you, I promise. ”

“It’s bad then?” Prompto asks, “Who my parents are? Really bad?”

Ignis hesitates. Then, “Do you know who Verstael Besithia was?”

No.

No no no.

It can’t be.

Anyone else.

Anyone but _him_.

Prompto jumps up again and strides to the other side of the room. With his back to Iggy he clenches his fists, trying to stop the trembling.

“Prompto…”

“And my mother?” he grits out.

“Emilie Tummelt - she was related to a _long_ line of celebrated war heroes.”

“Back when the empire wasn’t sending kids into battle,” Prompto spits, “I can see how those genetics would have been _appealing_ to that madman.”

“Quite.”

“She’s dead?” Prompto checks.

“She disappeared from public view almost exactly nine months before your birthday and was discovered dead shortly after the end of the war.”

Prompto blinks and a tear rolls down his cheek. He had parents. He was _born_.

“He was a monster,” Prompto breath catches in a short sob, “ _I’m_ a monster.”

Is being born to a monster better or worse having been _made_ by one.

“ _No_ ,” Ignis says, “Prompto, no.”

Ignis is behind him then and although Prompto _tries_ to flinch away from it Ignis holds him steady and turns him into the circle of his arms. Prompto resists at first but then kind of melts against Ignis’ chest, choking on another sob when Ignis cards his fingers through the back of his hair.

“You are a remarkable young man who grew up to be kind and courageous and thoughtful and loving despite every single thing in your life trying to steer you in other directions.”

“But my father he -”

“Your father’s father was a researcher creating treatments for incurable illnesses, your grandmother was helping to create cold resistant crops so Niflheim could be more self sufficient.”

Ignis smooths over the back of his head again, “We are not our parents, Prompto. Particularly when they did not raise us. You are your own person. And a frightfully good one at that.”

Prompto squeezes his arms around Iggy’s torso but the adviser doesn’t seem to mind.

“Who knows?” Prompto asks.

“Cor and Monica first discovered it of course. Clarus and his Majesty may also know. And I - Nyx knows, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Prompto says and he _thinks_ he means it, “I don’t want to be the reason you have secrets from Nyx.”

Ignis breathes deeply and then pulls back, a hand on each of Prompto’s shoulders so he can look him straight in the face.

“You really are the _kindest_ soul, Prompto,” Ignis tells him.

Prompto almost manages a smile.

“Can you not - can we keep it between us. For now, until I’ve -”

“Of course,” Ignis says, “Whatever you like. I just thought you should know.”

And despite the fact that he feels sick now, bothered by his origins for a whole host of different reasons he thinks Ignis is right.

It’s too much for him to unpack right now, it might be too much for him to fully unpack _forever_ , but at least he _knows._ People caring enough to give him the truth has always been sorely lacking from his life.

“Thank you,” Prompto says, “For telling me.”

Ignis gives him a soft smile.

“Can we go and find Nyx and Rosie?” Prompto asks, “I think some fresh air would do me good.”

“An excellent idea,” Ignis agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompto baking with Ignis for Solstice got cut in favour of being in Ignis’ chapter because I’m a monster and also Ignis has some feelings during the whole thing.
> 
> It's almost the end my dudes.


	15. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto's life in Insomnia solidifies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, hello. Sorry for the delay, I had some other projects I needed to work on. Also, low-key, really sad that this part is over.

Prompto doesn’t tell Noct. He doesn’t tell Gladio.

He doesn’t tell Iris or Eli or anyone.

The secret burns in him like acid. Verstael Besithia is his _father_.

Prompto’s more of a monster than he _thought_.

\- - -

On moving day he barely thinks about it at all.

Everyone is around and exuberant, carrying his boxes and helping him slot his life in amongst Gladio’s like he really belongs here.

Prompto _does_ belong here.

He hopes he can convince himself.

Clarus and Iris had taken Rosie home with them so they could finish unpacking the rest of Prompto’s things in peace and have a little uninterrupted alone time. Clarus hadn’t said that of course, but Prompto had felt that blessing all the same.

And Gladio’s made good on the time.

He’s already taken Prompto roughly against the wall, harking back to a long thought fantasy of Prompto’s from before they were _everything_. Then he'd used both hands to bring Prompto to a blinding peak in the showers as a reward from Prompto dropping to his knees and taking his huge boyfriend all the way down this throat.

It’d taken them a little longer to be ready for a third round and Prompto wasn’t even really sure they’d get there but slowly and surely, grinding against Gladio on the smaller couch in the study, Prompto had felt his boyfriend come back to life against his thigh. Prompto had teased him after that, mouth quick and clever against Gladio’s, fingers exploring and inquisitive until Gladio had taken his thighs roughly in his hands and murmured _baby, please_.

Gladio sits up against the couch now, legs slightly parted with Prompto spread over them; Prompto riding Gladio slowly and almost _carefully_ in the early hours of the morning.

What is it? 2am? _3am_?

Prompto doesn’t want to stop, he doesn’t want to have to _force_ himself not to think, he just wants to surrender his body to Gladio knowing it takes care of his mind.

Gladio puts his hands behind Prompto’s knees and pulls them further onto the couch, sinking Prompto down onto him and rendering him unable to do little more than rocks his hips. Gladio leans forwards, shifting his hands to support Prompto’s back as it pushes him backwards and sets his mouth to Prompto’s collarbone, sneaking down to lightly bite and suck at his nipples intermittently.

Prompto doesn’t think it will be enough to stop his brain, not this _gentle_ love making but somehow it does. Gladio fills him up and surrounds him, panting breaths against his skin as he covers his whole chest in soft bites and affectionate kisses. Prompto rocks down as best he can, a never ending senseless grind into Gladio’s own shifting hips. It takes them a long time to reach their peak, climbing slowly _together_ in whispered affirmations and loving caresses.

Prompto comes on a breathless shudder, feeling Gladio fill him all but simultaneously and when he falls asleep half an hour later with hair still damp from their second shower he feels like he might very well still be the same person he was a week ago.

\- - -

Prompto loves school. Coming to Insomnia University is everything he’s ever wanted, and yet.

 _And yet_.

Prompto’s _Art in Society_ Professor is a _snob_ , he has just five minutes to get from his second semester advanced photography class to his last pre-requisite social science class on Thursdays and it's not only clear across campus but without even the comforting presence of Noctis to see him through. There’s a number of little annoyances that add up: an email failing to send to Vyv and Prompto almost missing a deadline, a shitty text from _Linc_ of all people asking him if he’s ready to beg for his job back, Eli going out sick and Malcolm running him ragged in menial chores at _Insomnia Ink_ for almost ten hours straight...

By the time family dinner rolls around on the Thursday night Prompto feels _done._ Gladio’s working late and he’s already got Rosie with him so there’s really no reason for him to head back to their apartment specifically. Not unless he wants to be _alone_ , which he just doesn't. He texts Iris:

[Prompto 16:29] hey sweetie, you mind if i come keep you company til big guy gets off work?

[Iris ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 16:31] I have dance class until six, Gladdy’s bringing me home! Daddy’s at home though! <3

[Prompto 16:31] you think he’ll mind if i go over?

[Iris ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 16:33] NO!!!!! Daddy always says how he wishes he saw you more <3

[Iris ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 16:34] I gotta go. I’ll see you later Prom!!! <3

He texts Gladio too.

[Prompto 16:37] getting the bus straight to the manor so you don’t have to pick me up on the way home (*￣з￣)

[Gladio 16:38] Sure thing baby, I’ll see you soon, I love you x

[Prompto 16:39] ily too <3 <3 <3 <3

And so Prompto takes the bus to the edge of the fancy neighbourhood where the Amicitia manor and knocks on the heavy front door a little before five pm, a full hour and a half before he was due to arrive, hoping that Gladio warned his Dad Prompto was heading over.

Jared pulls the door open with a wide smile and says, “Master Prompto, it’s so lovely so see you.”

“Hi Jared,” Prompto says and the older man’s enthusiasm is so infectious he gives an honest to gods smile for the first time that day, “How are you?”

“Very well Prompto, thank you. How was school?”

Prompto shrugs, “Uh, school like I guess.”

Jared chuckles and beckons him inside, “I was about to try and convince Clarus into a cup of tea. Would you like some?”

“That sounds great actually, thank you, Jared,” Prompto says honestly. Jared bustles off towards the kitchen and Prompto unlaces his boots, sliding them neatly under the hook where he hangs his jacket.

Prompto follows Jared into the kitchen but when he steps through the door Jared looks up almost sharply.

“Off into the family room with you,” Jared says, waving him away.

Prompto shakes his head and ducks back out, making his way down the hall to the big room with the comfy couches and the fireplace. Clarus is reading, an old record player on low, pushing out light soothing strings. He’s _reading_ which Prompto loves to see, the little similarities between him and Gladio.

“Hey,” Prompto says softly, trying not to startle him.

Clarus looks up, face spreading into a smile at the sight of Prompto stood there. He all but slams his book closed, settling it onto the arm of the couch and then patting the coach beside him.

“Come sit down,” Clarus says, “Tell me about school.”

“Oh it’s um - it’s fine,” Prompto hedges.

“That bad?”

Prompto manages to laugh but it doesn’t last long, stress and worry pulling the corners of his mouth straight back down again.

“Prompto,” Clarus says.

“Sorry,” Prompto says and he quickly takes the seat beside him, trying to pull his mood up out of the sewers.

“Don’t be sorry,” Clarus says, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Prompto shakes his head.

Clarus frowns at him and something about that sets Prompto’s nerves on edge. He can’t disappoint him, not _Clarus,_ not on top of everything else right now.

Prompto needs to say something, to do something to set the man at ease but his throat feels tight and, annoyingly his eyes a little damp. Clarus opens his mouth to speak again but Jared bustles in with the tea at that very moment. Two steaming mugfuls and an extra teapot to boot on a little tray. Prompto focus on the way the vapour swirls off the surface as a way to ignore the way his thoughts are swirling instead.

“Thank you, Jared,” Clarus says and the houseman sets the tray down before making his way back to the kitchen.

Prompto should go help him with dinner, maybe if he had something to do with his hands -

“Here,” Clarus says and he hold out one of the mugs, patiently waiting until Prompto has a secure hold on it with both hands before letting go. Clarus doesn’t retreat though, instead that hand alights on his shoulder, warm and heavy but _nice_ too. Prompto doesn’t realise his hands are shaking until Clarus turns towards him, cupping his other palm around Prompto’s, preventing him from upending hot tea all over his lap.

“Prompto, do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Prompto blinks damp eyelashes and tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. He shakes his head again.

Clarus hand squeezes his shoulder. A _father_ squeezes his shoulder.

Prompto inhales and chokes a little on the air.

“Prompto,” Clarus signs, “Whatever it is -”

“I’m a monster,” Prompto blurts and warm tears burn clean trails down his cheeks.

“You are _not_ ,” Clarus says at once.

“My father he -”

“Has had nothing to do with you for your entire life.”

“But he - he -”

Very carefully Clarus breaks the grip Prompto has on his mug, taking it back away as securely as it had come. Prompto _trembles_ without it, with nothing to focus on.

“Son,” Clarus says and he moves a little closer on the couch so his arm is all the way around his shoulders, a facsimile of parental affection Prompto has been without his whole life.

“He _left_ me there,” Prompto says, “He just - he knew what they were doing and he _put_ me there.”

Clarus makes a low soothing noise but Prompto cannot be soothed.

“I’m his _son_ ,” Prompto says. He clenches his fists in his lap, nails biting into his skin so it _hurts_.

“I’m his son and he just didn’t care. I was nothing to him. I _am_ nothing.”

“None of that,” Clarus cuts in and it might be Prompto’s imagination but his voice sounds a little rough.

“He didn’t want me,” Prompto says, “No one wanted me. He fucked me up and then just _left_ me.”

“Come here,” Clarus says and then Prompto is completely in his arms, folded into his strength with one arm holding him tight and the other running a hand over his hair.

Prompto _cries_.

Not the restrained sobs he’d cried in front of Ignis when he’d first found out, not the little sniffles he’d been hiding under the shower spray on and off since he first found out. Prompto cries real tears with deep gasping breaths and shuddering shoulders, he’s exhausted after a just half a minute but it doesn’t stop, just goes on and on and on as Clarus patiently holds him in his arms, more of those soothing sounds eventually breaking their way into Prompto’s reverie.

Clarus doesn’t ask him to calm down, doesn’t try and tell him that everything is okay or suggest he’s over reacting. Clarus just stays at his side, intractable and firm, warm and comforting and _there_.

Clarus doesn’t get up and leave him, he doesn’t abandon him here to deal with by himself.

He doesn’t abandon him.

Prompto suddenly becomes aware enough to realise that Clarus is rocking him ever so slightly from side to side. He also becomes aware enough to latch on to him in turn, fingers clutching at the soft wool of his sweater, probably twisting it all out of shape but Clarus just holds him a little tighter and says an encouraging, “That’s it.”

Prompto fills his lungs and exhales with merely a wobble and not a full sob.

Clarus kisses the top of his head.

“Do you feel better?” Clarus asks him.

Prompto sniffs and just as he has the thought that he should wipe his face Clarus puts his hand on his cheek and swipes beneath his eye.

“Yes and no,” Prompto says.

Clarus brushes the backs of his finger across Prompto’s other cheek and then he turns slightly, pulling away and Prompto _panics_ clutching Clarus’ sweater so he can’t _leave_ , not yet, please not yet -

“Here,” Clarus says again, holding out Prompto’s tea once more, “While it’s still hot.”

Prompto sniffs again and frees just one of his hands, wrapping it around the mug and bringing it to his mouth to take a sip. It’s more warm than hot now but that makes it easier for Prompto to drain half the mug quickly, refortifying after his crying jag. Clarus chafes his hand up Prompto’s arm and presses another kiss into his hair.

Prompto feels _safe_.

It’s different to the way he feels safe with Gladio and Noct and Iggy, but the feeling slots right into his heart alongside all those feelings, the same sort of warm affection he gets when Iris texts asking for his help with an art project or to complain about the cute boys at school.

“I haven’t told Gladio,” Prompto admits quietly.

“And nor do you have to,” Clarus tells him, “Not if you don’t want to.”

“But isn’t it _lying_?”

Prompto feels Clarus shrug, “Not about anything that matters.”

Prompto splutters slightly on another mouthful of tea, “But it does _matter_.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean it’s not important to _you_. I meant that it’s not important to _Gladio_ , to any of us, because it has no bearing on who _you_ are.” The words run parallel to what Ignis had told him too, similar but not quite the same and Prompto tries to draw them in, make them take root in his brain.

“You’re a wonderful man, Prompto,” Clarus says and Prompto feels his eyes fill again, a different tender part of him reacting. Prompto takes another sip of tea and it keeps them somewhat at bay.

“I want to make something clear,” Clarus says and he does pull away then, twisting them both so they’re looking at each other a little more fully. He takes Prompto’s fingers out of his sweater but holds that hand in both of his own and Prompto feels pretty okay about it.

“That man is a horrible monster and what he did to _you_ specifically will always be the most unforgivable to me. Not only was it cruel but it was _idiotic_ because he wilfully gave up the chance to know you and raise you. You’re an incredible person, kind and sweet and loving where others would have become cold, everyone around you is better for knowing you.”

“Clarus -”

“Gladio is different for knowing you, calmer and more patient. He’s _open_ about how he’s feeling, not just with you but with everyone else in his life. My son was on a path that would lead him somewhere I didn’t know but was _sure_ would only make him unhappy. And then you appeared from nowhere to heal over some wound none of us knew he had.”

Prompto hadn’t ever thought about that before. He knows that _he_ is changed for loving Gladio, permanently for the better changed, the same as Noct and Iggy and even _Nyx_ had changed him. It had never occurred to him that he could be as impactful as that.

“The moment Gladio bought you through those doors you became _my_ Son, maybe even before that, and I will never let another thing or person harm you for so long as I live, do you understand?”

Prompto feels his mouth tremble and he looks up into Clarus’ face. His eyes are blue, a far cry from both his children, but they’re kind and open and Prompto leans into his words. He _wants_ this. He wants an adult that _cares_ about him, unconditionally and without restraint.

He _needs_ it.

Prompto clutches the mug tighter in his hand and flexes the other in Clarus’ hold. Clarus squeezes back.

Prompto dares to nod.

Clarus _smiles_ and raises one hand to sweep the fall of hair from Prompto’s forehead, pressing a kiss directly against his hairline.

“Good. That’s good,” Clarus says and he sounds so _honestly_ relieved Prompto feels more warmth spread in his chest, “Now, would you like more tea or would you like to rest before Gladio and Iris get home?”

Prompto considers his options and _dares_ once more.

“Both?” he asks and he glances at the length of couch beside them before looking up at Clarus again, “Can I -?”

“Of course,” Clarus agrees at once and he turns to reach for the teapot, “You drink up and I’ll go get you a blanket. You can sleep as long as you like, dinner will wait for you.”

Prompto _absolutely_ falls asleep for several hours, lulled by the soft music and Clarus’ strong presence at the other end of the couch.

When he wakes up the lights are low, but someone’s built a small blaze in the fireplace. Rosie’s lying over his legs and she raises her head when she senses him stirring. Prompto blinks at her sleepily, fighting one of his hands out of the blanket Clarus has laid over him to scritch underneath her chin.

A hand passes over his hair and then Gladio leans in to kiss his brow.

“Hey baby,” Gladio says softly, “I didn’t want to wake you but I thought you should probably eat and stuff. Also much longer and you won’t sleep at all tonight.”

Prompto wiggles his other hand free and places it on Gladio’s jaw, drawing him in for a kiss from where he’s kneeling on the ground beside the couch. Somewhere else in the room Iris makes exaggerated kissing noises.

“ _Iris_ ,” Clarus sighs and she breaks off into giggles.

“Dad said you had a rough day, huh?” Gladio asks and Prompto carefully surveys his eyes for any sign of distrust or upset but finds _none_ , just concern and _love_. Prompto nods.

“Better now though,” Prompto tells him.

“Good,” Gladio says, “You wanna eat? I’ll heat you up some dinner?”

Prompto nods and Gladio kisses his brow again before straightening up and vanishing from view. Iris is sat cross-legged on the floor, doing homework at the coffee table, when she spots Prompto looking at her she grins at him, offering a little wave.

Prompto stays laying down for a little longer listening to the music still playing low, the pages of the book turning as Clarus reads. The fire pops and crackles a little.

When Gladio reappears Prompto pushes himself upright, sliding more towards the centre of the couch. Before Prompto can take the bowl from his Gladio Clarus pushes his book to the side to reach out and adjust the blankets over Prompto’s legs.

“Thank you,” Prompto says and Clarus just shakes his head, ruffling his hair before going back to his book.

Gladio sits beside him, close enough that Prompto can lean his weight against his boyfriend as he digs his spoon into the rich stew. He balances the bowl on his lap so he can reach to tear of a hunk of the fresh bed,

“There’s more if you want it,” Gladio says and then he too pulls a book from somewhere.

It’s quiet and close and comfortable.

It’s nice.

It’s _more_ than nice.

\- - -

Noct uses his teeth to open his soda can and Prompto stares in horror.

“ _Dude_ ,” Prompto says, “You should maybe not to that.”

Noct laughs, “My teeth are fine.”

“You say, with all the surety of man who has never had to worry about the cost of his dental care,” Prompto teases.

Noct takes a bite out of the donut in his other hand, squinting at Prompto as they make their way off campus. Prompto _technically_ has a class this afternoon but it’s with his snobby professor and only an optional seminar to ask questions. As such Prompto is skipping it entirely, he has literally nothing to say to the man.

“When was the last time you had your teeth checked?” Noct says, “You know our health care extends to basic dental care too, right?”

“Oh,” Prompto says. He hadn’t known that but even so, “But wait - your health care doesn’t extend to me though. Because I’m not a citizen.”

 _Something_ had happened when Prompto had been in the hospital last year but he’s never quite been able to sniff out what. Ignis he thinks, Ignis probably just paid for whatever the costs were.

“So you haven’t had your teeth checked since you moved?” Noct clarifies.

“My teeth are fine,” he says, echoing Noct.

They cut into a little park and despite the cold and blustery weather the settle onto a bench together to eat their snacks and drink coffee.

And also -

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Noct asks him.

Prompto picks a chocolate chip from his cookie and spends an inordinately long time chewing it to avoid answering the question.

“Prom,” Noct nudges, literally, his elbow presses into Prompto’s side. “Is everything alright with you and Gladio.”

“Yeah,” Prompto reassures, “This is just a me thing.”

Noct nods, eating a little more of his donut.

There’s really no easy way to say it, Prompto realises. No way to tell _anyone_ this thing about himself in a gentle soft way to cushion the blow. Ignis had managed remarkably well but Prompto is not Ignis and he could never even _try_ to be him.

“Verstael Besithia is my dad,” Prompto says.

This is safe, _Noctis_ is safe. He’s going to tell Gladio, he _wants_ to tell Gladio. But Noct is his best friend, his platonic soul mate, brothers until they die.

Noct ruminates on the information for as long as it takes him to chew then says, “That sucks, dude. Sorry.”

Prompto blinks.

“Is that it?”

Noct shrugs, “Like, if you wanna talk about I’m all ears and stuff but Prom - it doesn’t _matter_. You know that right?”

“You know he’s a horrible war criminal that sent armies into your territory and stole children and -”

“I know!” Noct says, “Prom, this sucks _for_ you. You deserve a better dad, but it doesn’t mean anything _about you_.”

Prompto frowns at him.

“You didn’t do any of those things,” Noct tells him.

Prompto knows that’s true and despite everything Ignis and Clarus and now Noct have told him he still feels _tainted_ by this knowledge somehow, like a dirty marks been smeared on his forehead for the whole world to see. He wonders if that will ever go away.

“How’d you find out?” Noct asks him, “Iggy?”

Prompto nods, “Iggy.”

\- - -

Gladio insists on carrying his camera bag despite Prompto normally managing by himself and it’s so cute and sweet and _Gladio_ that Prompto doesn’t even kick up a fuss about it.

“What does Vyv need these for?” Gladio asks, handing Prompto up onto the bench to get a better angle on the street.

“Not really sure,” Prompto admits, “But it’s extra on top of my contract and the extra cash is always nice.”

Prompto snaps a couple shots, pretty sure he has enough to get a few suitable for whatever Vyv needs them for and then jumps back down onto the pavement. Gladio stands still for him while he stows his camera safely away.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Gladio says.

Prompto looks up to meet his eyes and then ducks his head again, zipping up the bag.

“Sorry I’ve been a downer,” Prompto says.

Gladio pushes the bag around so it’s resting over his back not his chest and then takes Prompto in his arms.

“That’s not what I meant,” Gladio says, “You just seem to have been a little sad since Solstice and I - well I’m glad you’re feeling better. I thought it might be something to do with the snow.”

Prompto wrinkles his nose. It _has_ been snowing on and off since the new year and sure, that’s not _helped_ Prompto’s mood but that’s really not it.

“I um - Ignis told me something. Something bad,” Prompto says.

Gladio tucks a hand under his chin and strokes a thumb over the apple of his cheek as he pulls Prompto’s face up.

He’s frowning a little but again, all Prompto can sense is concern.

“Ignis?”

“Yeah. It was, um. It was about me,” Prompto mumbles.

“What does Ignis know about you that you didn’t already know?”

Prompto turns his face to kiss Gladio’s palm, squeezing his eyes tight.

“Who my parents were.”

“Your parents?” Gladio says, “Iggy managed to find your parents? Wait? Who they _were_? So they’re - they’re gone? I’m so sorry Prom.”

Prompto feels the apology wash over him, a tiny comfort but there nonetheless.

“It’s worse than that,” he admits.

Gladio squeezes tighter around his shoulders, tucking him under his chin.

“If you don’t want to talk about -”

“He was Verstael Besithia,” Prompto says, “My dad, he was _that_.”

Gladio pulls away just enough to sit on the bench, pulling Prompto effortlessly onto his lap. Gladio’s face is oddly still, nothing in the set of his eyebrows or mouth to tell Prompto what he’s thinking. Prompto raises his hand and strokes his fingers over Gladio’s jaw. It's _tense_ and Prompto immediately worries about what's to come.

“What are you thinking?” Prompto whispers.

“I’m - I’m really _mad_ , Prom.”

Prompto snatches his hand back.

“Not at _you_ ,” Gladio assures him, “Never at you, _Gods_ , Prom. That man - what he did to you. His _son_. It’s not right.” Gladio picks Prompto’s hand back up and presses his palm against his cheek, closing his eyes and leaning into Prompto’s touch.

“You’re angry at him?” Prompto asks.

“Honestly, right now? I’m angry enough that I wish he wasn’t dead so I could fly over to Niflheim and kill him myself.”

“Gladio…”

“I mean it. I don’t - I can’t _stand_ the idea of you being hurt Prompto,” Gladio insists.

“But you don’t - you don’t feel any differently about me?”

Gladio kisses him, dipping him playfully in towards the seat of the bench and Prompto has to work to kiss him around the giggles that burst free of him.

“I love you,” Gladio says, “Ain’t nothing ever going to change that. Especially shit that you can’t control.”

Prompto pecks his mouth, pressing their foreheads together.

“I love you, too.”

“You wanna go get Rosie from Noct’s and head home?” Gladio asks, “We can talk more about it then or not at all. Whatever you want.”

“I think I’m done for now,” Prompto says, “But you’ll -”

“I’ll be here,” Gladio promises, “I’ll always be here.”

Prompto smiles and presses close, “Then Rosie and home sounds perfect.”

\- - -

“Question,” Noct says suddenly.

“Shoot,” Prompto replies.

“What version of Carbuncle did you reference for my painting?”

Prompto stares at him blankly for a second, “None, why?”

“Just because it’s so good,” Noct says, “Nothing at all?”

“Just your little charm and what you’d told me,” Prompto says feeling warm in the face. It’s _weird_ being in Noct’s apartment and seeing his painting there. Not _un_ pleasant but definitely strange.

“So, do you think you could do it smaller, and simpler?”

“The painting?” Prompto clarifies.

Noct shakes his head, “Just Carbuncle.”

“Yeah,” Prompto says and he flips over a few pages in the sketchbook he’s already scribbling away in, “Pretty sure. What for?”

“A tattoo.”

Prompto freezes.

“For you?” Prompto asks.

“If you’ll do it, yeah.”

“Shit, _Noct_. Lead with that next time,” Prompto complains, “Are you being for real?”

“Yeah,” Noct says, “Dude I’ve kind of always wanted one and if it’s your art by your hand all the better.”

Noct gets a hug, whether he likes it or not.

\- - -

[Gladio 17:21] So Cor asked me to cover him at a training thing tonight and it means I won’t be home before midnight.

[Prompto 17:22] (T＿T)(ㄒoㄒ)

[Gladio 17:24] Stop it <3

[Gladio 17:24] I have just enough time to bring Rosie home if you don’t want to be without her.

[Prompto 17:25] i’m good, she can keep you company. i’ll do that paint pouring thing i wanted to try while she’s not here to step through it all and make a mess

[Gladio 17:26] You wanna order takeout? Something easy for me to reheat.

[Prompto 17:27] i can just cook!

[Gladio 17:28] School sucks ass right now, treat yourself and then pour paint baby, I insist.

[Prompto 17:29] ⋋_⋌

[Prompto 17:29] okay <3 <3 <3 gonna get noodles for my man

[Gladio 17:30] You’re perfect <3

-

Prompto’s noodles are _bright_ red, the spiciest thing on the menu and he tosses his half of the steamed veggies - ordered for _balance_ \- right in there and mixes it around so they’re bright red too. He scarfs them down and then lines the bathtub with a sheet of plastic before laying his canvases in there too.

He’s unscrewing the lid on his yellow paint, surveying the positioning of his string strands when there’s a knock on the front door. Prompto puts the paint down on the edge of the sink.

They don’t have a peephole so Prompto has no choice but to pull it open slightly to see who it is but it turns out to just be Noct so he throws the door wide for his friend.

And then realises that it’s _just_ Noct.

Alone.

“Dude how did you get here?”

Noct looks _strange_. Well he looks fine, good - like he normally does. But he _feels_ strange, something in the air around him, the set of his shoulders, the way his teeth are trying to chew a hole in his lip.

“Dude are you okay?”

“Nyx dropped me off,” Noct says, “I didn’t like break protocol or anything.”

Okay, Noct is a question behind. Prompto can deal with that.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Prompto asks, pushing Noct further inside and getting the door closed. Noct strips out of his shoes and jacket without saying anything, seemingly moving on auto-pilot.

“Noct?”

Noct looks at him, oddly wide-eyed and blurts, “I had sex with Luna.”

Prompto blinks.

Stepping forward Prompto grabs Noct by the arm and drags him to the couch, pushing him down onto it and the settling beside him with his legs folded.

“Like - _just_ now, or -”

Noct shakes his head, “Last night.”

“Did you not enjoy it?”

Prompto wouldn’t be _surprised_ to discover that to be true. He and Noct had never explicitly discussed Noct’s sexual preferences but Prompto had always assumed on the spectrum of sexuality Noct was somewhere down the _asexual_ end.

“No, I did,” Noct says but Prompto isn’t sure he sounds convinced.

“Noct, you know you shouldn’t do _stuff_ if you don’t want -”

“No, no,” Noct says and he sounds more confident this time, “I wanted to, I enjoyed it. It was _nice_. But I mean that in a good way.”

“Well I’m glad,” Prompto says, “Did you guys _talk_ first?”

Noct nods. “Yeah, for like, a _really_ long time. Multiple times,” Noct says, “I uh, wanted her to know that I hadn’t really ever _liked_ someone like that before. And sometimes I think I just _don't_ feel that way about people. You know, just in case I didn’t ever _get_ there.”

Prompto offers him a smile.

“I’m proud of you,” Prompto says sincerely, “For opening up.”

“I went to tell her that I finally felt like we were close enough – that I like wanted to do stuff with her. Luna thought I was trying to tell her I’m gay,” Noct says, laughing very briefly. He looks up at Prompto then back down, picking a hole in his jeans.

“And well I think I might be bisexual,” Noct says in a rush, “But um, I _do_ like Luna. So.”

Prompto laughs a little too, “Dude, however you feel. Whoever you like and don’t like, however much you like them, that’s cool.”

“Yeah,” Noct says smiling. He picks at another thread in his jeans, “When I told her _that_ she thought I was specifically trying to tell her I had a crush on _you_.”

Prompto laughs from deep in his belly and Noct blushes pink across his cheeks.

“Man that’s _crazy_ ,” Prompto says, “But you feel okay? About the sex.”

They stare at each other.

“There’s literally no other way for me to phrase that question dude, come on,” Prompto complains.

“Yeah, I feel good about it. I liked it. Would do it again - though hopefully _better_ this time.”

Prompto snorts, “Ain’t that a mood. You took care of her, right?”

Noct splutters indignantly, blush deepening, “Of _course_ I did.”

Prompto laughs again and leans into Noct's side.

“Hey, you wanna help me pour paint?”

“Pour paint?” Noct asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, come on. It’s messy but fun. And you _can’t_ do it wrong.”

\- - -

Prompto never expected to like these technical drawing classes so much but he _really_ does.

He _likes_ the mathematics of perspective and learning how light reflects off different surfaces. He takes his normal seat in his Friday class, surprised to see two plain wedding bands on the corner or his desk. Everyone has something - a pair of tweezers, a few coins, a fancy letter opener - so Prompto digs his sketchbook straight out, presuming today will be a practical class.

The professor stands at the head of the room and claps their hands. The chatter in the class dies around him.

“Metal!” their professor says energetically, “Beautiful to look at difficult to catch on paper. Pencils only, sketch what I’ve left you. Remember to think about the _light_.”

Prompto’s _good_ at this.

He doesn’t normally think those things about himself, but he really is good at this.

He sketches the rings, removing pencil marks where the light is brightest and as the Professor makes his way around the room he taps Prompto’s sketch book and says “Good job.”

-

Gladio cooks. Prompto _loves_ it when Gladio cooks.

Crispy roast potatoes and thick slices of meat; gravy that’s almost as good as Iggy’s. Prompto’s perfectly full, content and sleepy, but he _has_ to get some sketches fleshed out or he’ll fall behind so he goes into the study for a bit, kissing Gladio softly before he leaves and managing to buckle down for a solid hour.

And then he gets _lonely_.

He peeks out of the study with a sheepish grin, sketchbook tucked under his arm and Gladio grins at him, patting the small open spot on the couch. Gladio and Rosie are taking up almost the whole thing. Prompto gives Gladio a kiss, stoops to kiss Rosie’s belly and then settles on the floor between Gladio’s legs, back against the couch with his sketchbook spread over his knees.

He’s working on the same page from earlier, his little rings up in the corner, the page littered with other little sketches. Prompto probably _shouldn’t_ be drawing metal from memory, but he thinks its going pretty well. Thinks he’s doing a good job.

“Have you ever thought about getting married?” Gladio suddenly asks.

Prompto freezes, eyes darting to the rings that Gladio must be able to see over his shoulder. The very tip of his pencil snaps under the force of his hand but Prompto doesn’t _care._

Married.

 _Married_.

To Gladio.

Prompto chews thoughtfully on his lip, “I mean - I couldn’t really, before,” Prompto explains, “In Niflheim its not legal, y’know.”

“Right, of course,” Gladio says, “But I mean, now that you live here, have you thought about it?”

Prompto considers this. Somehow he _hadn’t_ really, in a real sense. It had been on his list of attractive qualities about Lucis, for sure, but he hadn’t really thought he’d meet someone that would ever want to get there with him.

Not so soon anyway, if at all.

He’s thought about being with Gladio forever and maybe -

Maybe that’s the same thing.

Prompto turns slightly so he can fully look up at Gladio on the couch. “I acknowledged it when I first got here, but then not so much. Not until -”

Prompto flushes. Not until _right_ now. And boy does he ever want too. This second, next week, three years from now. He wants it.

“Until now?” Gladio guesses.

Prompto’s lip hurts from how hard his teeth are pressing against it. Nodding he makes himself ask, terrified of the response, “What about you?”

“I thought about it a lot,” Gladio says at once, “Wondered who would get picked out for me. Wondered what she’d be like.”

Prompto feels himself deflate but nods again. Of course. All of Gladio’s marriage thoughts would have been about the arranged marriage he thought he was going to have. And at the crux of it, doesn’t Gladio still have to produce an heir? They changed the law, sure, but would a child they adopted _truly_ be accepted? Would they end up having to _shop_ for a surrogate just so the Amicitia bloodline is guaranteed to be around in defence of Noct’s children.

“But then,” Gladio carries on, interrupting his rambling thoughts, “It turned out I do get to choose after all and well -” Gladio reaches forward to cup Prompto’s cheek, and Prompto leans into his palm, letting his eyes fall closed, “- I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Recently.”

“Good thoughts?” Prompto asks, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Amazing ones,” Gladio says, “Yours?”

“Same,” Prompto breathes.

Prompto kisses his palm and then turns around again before he can do something dumb. He picks up his pencil but doesn’t do anything, heart pounding in his chest. Prompto can’t _actually_ draw now, not until he sharpens it back up.

That wasn’t a proposal. It wasn’t even a promise or an agreement but the idea feels firm and comfortable in his mind. At some point this’ll be a thing.

Prompto bites back a smile and without looking at Gladio adds, “Although it would be a minor pain to have to change my name when I’m still at school.”

“Noted,” Gladio says. Prompto can hear his smile, feels it when Gladio presses a kiss to the crown of his head.

\- - -

“Prom, I love you. But you’re going to be no good at this,” Gladio says.

“Hey!” Prompto complains even though it’s absolutely true.

Gladio turns to his dad, “Do you remember playing cheat with him at Solstice?”

Clarus laughs, “You do have absolutely no poker face.”

Prompto pouts and Clarus digs into the draw of the side table, pulling out one of the big family sized bags of sugar shell coated chocolate candies. Brand name to boot.

“Yellows are the most expensive ones,” Prompto says, catching on to Clarus’ intent, “No wait. The cheapest or I won’t end up with any.”

“You got it,” Clarus says, ripping into the bag with a laugh, “Gladio, teach Prompto the basics while I divvy us up.”

Prompto’s _bad_. And not just because he has not poker face but because he often discards good hands, not understanding how the cards stack together to make flushes and straights and full houses.

Iris plays at first but gets bored quickly, scooping up her M&Ms - plus an extra handful from the bowl - and sneaking off to flick through Prompto’s sketchbooks in one of the armchairs. She likes to do it and Prompto likes to make her happy so he squashes down the mild discomfort at having someone look at his rough work.

“Fold,” Gladio says, tossing his cards face down onto the table.

Clarus hesitates, looking over Prompto’s face with a keen flick of his blue eyes.

“Fold,” Clarus says and Prompto cries in indignation, throwing his cards onto the table face up so his pair of queen land next to the one already dealt.

“You looked too pleased,” Gladio says while Prompto scoops up the small pile of mostly yellow sweets, throwing two in his mouth to make him feel better about only managing to score the initial buy in bet.

“I suck at this,” Prompto says.

“We love you anyway,” Gladio says and Prompto sticks out his tongue.

From the armchair Iris _gasps_ and as one they all turn to face her in concern. She leans forward, turning the book around to show them the Carbuncle sketch he’d put together with Noctis the other day. Carbuncle looks the same as in his big painting, same pose and expression but he’s simplified down to clean lines like Noct had asked. Perfect for a simple and striking tattoo on Noct’s shoulder blade.

Eli had even given Prompto the all clear to tattoo someone not himself and Noct was _very_ excited.

But then Ignis had said no.

“This is cute,” Iris says.

“Oh,” Prompto says, picking up the cards to start shuffling them again, “Yeah.”

Prompto tries not to let Ignis’ flat out refusal bother him, tries not to see it as a reflection on himself and _his_ talents but he really does. He can’t help but wonder if Iggy would have said yes had the plan been for Eli to tattoo Prompto’s design.

“I drew it for Noct as, like, a tattoo,” Prompto goes on to say because everyone’s looking at him.

Iris turns the sketch pad back around, looking down at the little fox-type creature, “Did he not like it?”

“He’s not allowed a tattoo apparently,” Prompto explains, adding just a _little_ bitterly, “Which sucks because he wanted to be my first one, now that Eli says I’m ready.”

“That’s not true,” Clarus says.

“Huh?”

“Kings and Princes are definitely allowed tattoos,” Clarus says decisively - Prompto wonders if King Regis has ink hidden somewhere under his Raiment, “Who said he wasn’t allowed?”

“Iggy,” Prompto says, “Iggy said it -” he coughs and then mimics Iggy’s accent, still bitter enough not to feel _too_ bad about doing so “- wouldn’t be suitable for Prompto to practice tattooing on the Crown Prince of Lucis.”

Okay, he feels a little bad. He’ll bring Iggy an Ebony next time he sees him to make up for it.

Gladio laughs, “You can totally tattoo Noct, babe, Iggy just wants you to have done other stuff first.”

Prompto has done _plenty_ of other stuff.

“Do I need to show him my legs? My hip. Tattooing someone else has got to be easier than that.” Prompto cannot _wait_ for a model he doesn’t have to twist himself in half to tattoo.

“I told you,” Gladio starts, “If you need skin -”

Prompto vehemently shakes his head “No, I’m not tattooing you. Not now, not ever.” Not happening, not now, not ever.

Gladio eats a handful of the sweets, rolling his eyes at Prompto’s insistent refusal. Prompto can’t _really_ explain why he feels so strongly about this, not even to himself. The ink Gladio already has is _perfect_ , a wonderful symbol and an astounding piece of artwork. Prompto doesn’t want to be the one to mess with that, to put his needle too close and set it off balance.

Clarus drums his finger tips against the wood top of the coffee table.

“What about me?”

Prompto almost drops the cards he’s shuffling.

“That’s not - you can’t - really?” Prompto stutters.

“I’m quite certain,” Clarus says, fixing him with that kind smile of his, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, you know.”

“I -” Prompto feels like he’s had the rug pulled out from underneath him, he never expected even for a second.

“Don’t you want Eli to do it?” Prompto asks.

“I trust him to have taught you well,” Clarus says tone softy, “And I’ve seen pictures of the work you’ve done on yourself.”

Prompto nods. He’s never had cause to take his pants of in front of him, thank the Gods, but he’d shown him and Iris the pictures when they’d asked.

“Have you ever seen the family crest?” Clarus asks, already climbing to his feet, “It’s a bit outdated and over complicated but I think you might be able to work wonders with it.”

Prompto gets up too, casting a glance at Gladio who - despite looking _shocked_ himself - offers Prompto a wink and an encouraging smile.

“Here,” Clarus says, drawing a wooden block from a draw in their fancy display cabinet.

Prompto takes the symbol to see that, unsurprisingly, the Amicitia family crest is a sword and shield motif, backed and surrounded by an eagle. It’s beautiful, if a little heavy handed and old fashioned.

“Feel free to modernise it a bit,” Gladio says, “Bring it to now - perhaps represent _my_ family a little.”

Prompto strokes his finger over the strong line of the sword.

“How do you feel about flowers?”

\- - -

[Prompto 16:11] i’m lost in the citadel send help

[Gladio 16:12] Noct said he left you right outside Dad’s office?

[Prompto 16:13] noct is a liar

“Prompto?” a voice says.

“Monica,” Prompto says whirling around, “Hi.”

“I’m not used to seeing you here without one of the other boys,” she says, smiling so her eyes crinkle up at the edges, “You look lost.”

“I am,” Prompto admits.

He’s still not _sure_ how he feels about Monica - and Cor - if he’s being completely honest. He likes them well enough, they’re both kind when he sees them but there’s a weight in their gaze that creates a weird sense of longing in his chest. Like an unfulfilled wish he can’t quite remember but hurts all the same.

They’d talked a little at Solstice and Cor had reiterated his offer to _talk_ via Clarus when word had gotten back to him Prompto had finally found out about his father.

Prompto _wants_ to, but he’s scared of wanting.

“Are you looking for Gladio? He’s training with Noctis right now.”

Prompto shakes his head, “Clarus actually.”

Monica smiles and glances over her shoulder, “You over shot a little, come one I’ll walk you down.”

And despite the fact she has to turn completely around and walk back the way she came Monica leads him down the long hallway to a door Prompto _absolutely_ walked right past a few minutes ago. It’s even slightly ajar and if he hadn’t been nervously staring at the ground as he walked he might even have clocked Clarus sat at his desk. And Cor stood beside it.

“There you are, son,” Clarus says and Prompto feels a burst of warmth at his easy use of the word, “Come in, I’m just finishing up with Cor.”

Prompto smiles at him and glances at Monica, “Thanks for helping me.”

“You’re _very_ welcome,” Monica tells him.

Prompto makes the very short journey to the chair in front of Clarus’ desk, sinking onto the soft padding and dropping his school bag on the floor beside him.

“How are you?” Prompto is asked and to his surprise it’s not Clarus that says it, but _Cor_.

“I’m uh-” Prompto glances at Clarus who seems to be biting back the full force of his smile glancing between Cor and Prompto, “I’m good thanks. School is kind of sucky this semester but otherwise good. Um, how are you?”

“Fine,” Cor says and he looks at Clarus who shakes his head slightly, “Ignis says you wanted to learn to drive.”

“Oh, I do - but with everything happening I decided to wait until I graduate, I couldn’t afford to run a car before then anyway.”

“I’ll do it - teach you, I mean,” Cor says oddly fast.

“Oh, that’s so - you don’t need to -”

“I want to,” Cor says firmly, “I would like to teach you to drive. When you’re ready. I would like to do that for you.”

Prompto glances at Clarus again and he gives him an encouraging smile.

“I think - I think I would like that too.”

Cor _smiles_.

“Great, that’s great,” Cor says, “Okay, Monica and I will leave you to it.”

Prompto looks over his shoulder to find Monica still standing there. She’s beaming too.

They make their way out and Prompto sits in dumbfounded silence. Clarus grins a little more fully now.

“I have some sketches to show you,” Prompto says and he fumbles in his bag for his personal sketch book, “Um, here.”

Clarus only looks at it for about six seconds before looking up and saying, “It’s wonderful.”

Prompto feels proud.

“So, um if you like the sketches I can draw up a proper line drawing and we can talk about colours if you want any - on the next page I did one where the _flowers_ are coloured but the rest is still just shading,” Prompto explains.

This still feels like some out of body experience where he has the opportunity to tattoo the Shield of the King, his boyfriend’s father, _his -_

Something. Clarus is something to him. Not quite a father, not yet. But something close.

Whatever it is Prompto’s about to be a professional tattoo artist for the first time. Prompto - Eli - is going to comp Clarus for it as part of Prompto’s training but, still.

Clarus flips the page and breathes out, “Yes, that’s lovely - the Gladiolus, could it be red?”

“Yes,” Prompto says quickly - eagerly, “The irises too, I looked them up after I coloured those and I think red either side like that would look _incredible_.”

“Perfect,” Clarus says, “Yes, like that.”

“Have you thought about placement?” Prompto asks.

“Calf, I think. Plenty of space for you to work.”

\- - -

Prompto shifts restlessly against the sheets, eyes squeezed tight even though there’s several layers of silk keeping him in darkness anyway.

He’d asked Gladio if he wanted to tie his hands back too but Gladio had just pressed his lips to his thrumming pules and said:

“Next time. Just - one thing at a time, okay? Until we know you like it.”

Prompto’s naked, spread across their bed but Gladio’s still got his jeans on. Prompto can’t see it but he can feel the denim, slightly rough against the back of his thighs. Gladio’s working him open and Prompto’s never felt more or less connected to his own body all at the same time.

Prompto can _feel_ that there are three fingers inside him, can feel the fist wrapped loosely around his cock, barely stroking just holding him slightly off his belly. But he can’t _see_ Gladio’s face or watch his shoulders shift, can’t look at the muscles in his arms twitch as thrusts his fingers. Prompto feels wide, slick and open and Gladio doesn’t stop just keeps twisting his fingers and pressing against his insides until Prompto strangles back a yell and goes tense head to toe.

Gladio withdraws his hands and Prompto whines, shifting against the bed as he feels it dip slightly beside his head. Prompto feels _warm_ and senses Gladio’s body settles a scant inch away from his own moments before he’s kissed; messy and deep and searching. Prompto scrambles his hands onto Gladio’s biceps and squeezes, suddenly pleased he isn’t restrained.

“You okay?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods quickly, hyper away of the way his own breath sounds - rough and haggard like he’s run ten miles.

“I bought you something a while ago, you wanna try it out?”

Prompto wets his bottom lip.

“What kind of thing?”

“A toy,” Gladio says. Prompto swallows loudly and nods again.

Gladio kisses him again, a rough bite against his lip and then an oddly sweet flutter against his cheek, right under the edge of the silk wrapped over his eyes.

And then he pulls away, right off the bed and Prompto is alone, _exposed_ -

“Gladio,” he gasps, “Gladio, I -”

“Hey, hey,” Gladio says, hand sweeping over his chest and trailing up his throat to cup his jaw, “I’m here, you need me to take this off?”

Prompto shakes his head, “Just don’t leave me.”

“Are you sure?” Gladio asks and then he laughs, just one short chuckle, “Maybe we should have set up safe words.”

Prompto snorts, “I’m _green_ , promise.”

This time when Gladio pulls away he trails his hand back along Prompto’s chest and down his arm to hold his hand so Prompto is connected to him while he listens to the draw on Gladio’s side of the bed open and close.

The bed dips again as Gladio climbs back between his thighs and Gladio drops his hand as soon as denim is once again brushing Prompto’s skin.

“Hold out your hand,” Gladio instructs and Prompto quickly complies, raising it palm up.

Prompto can immediately tell its made of silicone, short and the width of two of Prompto’s fingers - maybe three at the widest part. It flares out and then back in towards the end where it forms a loop. Prompto pops two fingers through the loop and tests the weight, imagines it dragging heavily against his insides.

“You like it?” Gladio asks.

“Yes,” Prompto says, “What are you - what are you going to do to me?”

Gladio tugs the plug from his hands and then he settles over Prompto again, warm and comforting to kiss him so fleetingly Prompto doesn’t have time to respond. Gladio kisses along his cheek, towards his ear as he talks.

“First I’m going to fill you up with this,” Gladio says, a hand wrapping around Prompto’s length again, “Then I’m going to take _this_ pretty cock in my mouth and _then_ I’m not really sure. Maybe I’ll let you come like that, maybe I’ll make you _wait_.”

Prompto whines softly, a little vibration in his chest and Gladio chuckles darkly.

“You like that?”

Prompto nods, “ _Please_.”

Prompto listens carefully as Gladio leans away again, noting how deliberately his boyfriend presses his thigh against the back of his own and the distinct noise of the lube bottle snapping open. When Gladio puts a hand on his thigh Prompto tenses, waiting for the unfamiliar object to breach him, stretch him in new ways.

“You gotta relax,” Gladio says, “I can’t _feel_ you as good through this and if I think I’m going to hurt you I’ll stop.”

“Okay,” Prompto says and as Gladio rubs circles into the top of his thigh he slowly relaxes, going lax against the bed once more.

The tip of it presses against Prompto’s entrance, neither warm nor cold and Prompto forces himself to breath _out_ as Gladio pushes it inside of him. It settles solid and heavy against his walls, no where near the thickest thing he’s ever taken but thrilling for it’s unfamiliarity. It’s not quite long enough to press against the extra sensitive parts of him but close enough to be a tantalising tease.

Gladio tucks his fingers through the loop and gives it a tug, pulling and pushing it back and forth just a little.

“Good?” Gladio asks roughly.

Prompto hasn’t _touched_ him yet, wouldn’t even let Prompto take his pants off, wouldn’t let him do _anything_.

“Yes,” Prompto manages.

Gladio’s warmth hovers over him from the waist down, mouth open and wet as it moves further down. The hand around Prompto’s cock falls away, replaced almost instantly by Gladio’s tongue licking a warm stripe up the underside. Prompto cries out when Gladio’s mouth spreads over his tip, tongue dragging across his head and he tenses again - squeezing the plug inside him beautifully - to stop from thrusting up into the pleasure.

Gladio laughs around him, a pleasant vibration, and reaches for one of Prompto’s hands, wrenching it free from the sheets and putting it encouragingly towards the back of his head, where his hair is long and thick enough for Prompto to twist his fingers through.

“ _Gods_ ,” Prompto sighs as Gladio proceeds to swallow him all the way down.

Gladio shifts, adjusting his weight so he can press his thumb into the divot where Prompto's hip and thigh meet.

Prompto gives Gladio’s hair a little tug, unable to encourage him verbally because his mouth can’t do anything but moan and sigh and _breath_.

Gladio lets him come like that, _makes_ him come light - the threat of making him wait forgotten and abandoned and Prompto jerks against the bed and the hand holding down his hip. The plug stays inside him, drawing out his peak, extending it until Prompto’s not sure where it stops and he begins.

Gladio pulls away almost shockingly fast, just one almost chaste kiss against the spent tip of his dick as he retreats. Prompto doesn’t panic this time because he can feel Gladio moving around, arm brushing his thigh as Prompto listens to a zip lower.

“You’re really fucking -” Gladio grumbles, almost like a complaint and he huff, popping open the cap on the lube again.

“Gladio,” Prompto mumbles though he’s still trembling too badly to do anything.

“Baby,” Gladio says, “Baby -”

Prompto feels Gladio’s arm move against his thigh, back and forth, building in speed with the rough little noises Gladio expels.

 _Fuck_.

Prompto scrambles for his blindfold with clumsy fingers, managing to get the knot loose enough to rip it clean off his face in time for him to watch Gladio throw his head back, abdomen and muscular thighs tensing as he comes with a shout in several long pulses across Prompto’s belly.

Gladio slumps forward, catching himself on his arms either side of Gladio’s ribs.

“You -” Gladio says, still panting for breath.

Prompto shifts a little, aware of the toy still inside of him, the feel of Gladio’s come cooling on his skin.

“I didn’t really do anything,” Prompto manages.

Gladio shakes his head and leans forward to mouth across Prompto’s chest and Prompto finds the energy to raise his hand and put it back into Gladio’s hair.

“You did _plenty_ ,” Gladio promises.

Prompto tugs him up for a kiss and Gladio makes it all tender and soft, like a _thank you_.

“Lets get you sorted out? Yeah?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods and lifts his hips a little as Gladio’s hand disappears between his thighs again.

“Relax,” Gladio reminds him and Prompto groans as the silicone is shifted, his body seemingly reluctant to let it go.

Gladio kisses along his collarbone as it pops free and Prompto is left feeling open and exposed, a little cold. He whines without meaning to - it’s not like when Gladio's been inside of him and slips free at the end, the plug was smaller than Gladio but harsher, foreign feeling against his flesh.

Prompto _likes_ it. He would like to use it again, maybe something different, something _more_.

He glances down as Gladio shifts it, dropping it onto the mattress by their knees and he giggles into Gladio’s next kiss.

“It matches,” Prompto says, thinking of the purple vibrator stashed in _his_ bedside draw.

“Figured it would be a crowd pleaser,” Gladio teases.

“It really was.”

\- - -

Clarus wants to drive Prompto to work the morning of his tattoo appointment but when Prompto asks, he agrees to come in a few hours into his shift so Prompto has time to get some of his normal tasks done and get everything prepared.

And so Eli can check over his design one last time.

“It looks _really_ great,” Eli promises, “Not _too_ complicated so you’ll trip yourself up or won’t be able to get it all done today but also not _so_ plain it won’t look great.”

“You think the balance is okay?” Prompto asks.

Eli hooks his arm around Prompto’s neck and playfully rubs his knuckles over his scalp.

“The balance is perfect,” Eli says, not letting go until Prompto taps against his arm three times.

“You _suck_ ,” Prompto says, straightening out his hair, “But thanks.”

“You got it kid.”

Prompto trims the edges of the stencil and wanders over to Eli’s station where he’ll be working for the afternoon. Setting out a razor he makes sure he has all the paper clothes he’ll need and stashes a few water bottles within easy reach.

The bell above the door jingles.

“Gladio,” Eli says, “How’s it going man?”

“Good Eli, how have you been?”

“Getting by,” Eli says, “Sir, it’s great to see you again.”

“Clarus is fine,” he says, “Prompto ready for me?”

“ _Just_ about I think,” Eli says, “Kid?”

Prompto glances over the station one last time and then turns to make his way over to the front of the store.

Clarus scoops him up into a hug first and when he’s deposited on the ground again Gladio meets him for a brief kiss.

“Good to go?” Clarus asks.

Prompto bobs his head in the affirmative, “I’ve got the stencil in the size you asked but if we get it on and you don’t like it I can do a quick resize on the computer.”

Clarus settles into the tattoo chair and rolls up one of his pant legs. Prompto picks up the stencil as soon as the cuff is at his knee and shows him the best placement, right at the widest part, positioned so the whole thing is visible when looking at his leg from the side.

“I’ll have to shave you,” Prompto says a little apologetically despite the fact Clarus has a huge eagle spread across his shoulders and arms and has definitely been through this before.

“Perfectly fine,” Clarus says and Prompto reaches for the damp cloth that he absolutely forgot to prepare.

“Shoot,” he mumbles, “I’ll be right back.”

“I got it,” Eli says, handing one over. He must have spotted that Prompto missed it, Astrals bless him.

Prompto shaves most of Clarus’ calf and then there’s nothing left for him to do but apply the stencil Eli hands him and -

Tattoo him.

\- - -

“I forgot how _itchy_ it would get,” Clarus tells Prompto as he lets him inspect the healing progress before family dinner.

It looks _good_ , really good. If Prompto could efficiently separate himself from his art he might even say it looked skilful. The colours have come out good, rich and vibrant against Clarus' skin. Most importantly Clarus is pleased and both Noct and Nyx had text him to say how good it looked in person after the first time they’d seen it.

“It’s not too bad is it?” Prompto asks in concern, “Not causing actual issue?”

“Only when I’m stuck in a particularly tiresome meeting with nothing to distract me,” Clarus promises.

\- - -

Prompto’s cleaning up Malcolm’s office again because he seems to be letting it fall further and further into disarray during each the week the longer Prompto works here. Eli ducks into the room and nods towards the main part of the studio.

“Your appointment is here,” Eli tells him.

“My what?”

“Your appointment. Didn’t I tell you?” Eli says innocently.

Prompto glares at him.

“Who is it?”

Eli grins. “Come outside, they’ll need a little consult before you get to work.”

“What’s up, kid?” Nyx ask when he locks eyes with Prompto.

Prompto doesn’t know whether to be concerned or elated.

“I’m not tattooing your face,” Prompto says.

“I have _all_ the face tattoos I need,” Nyx assures him.

Prompto exhales in relief, “What are we talking then?”

In a move that in no way surprises Prompto Nyx pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket.

There’s three symbols in a line and when Prompto takes the paper Nyx adjusts it in his hold so they form a pillar not a line.

“Galahdian?” Prompto guesses.

Nyx nods, “There’s a bit more to it but it essentially means ‘home away from home’.”

“And you want me to do it?” Prompto asks.

Nyx makes a slightly weird face, “Who else is would I ask?”

-

[Iggy 21:31] Good evening, Prompto. I just wanted to check in and let you know that my initial resistance to Noct getting a tattoo had very little to do with you.

[Iggy 21:32] I’m afraid I did not make that clear enough last time we spoke of it.

[Prompto 21:35] its alright iggy, trainee shouldn’t tattoo the prince it makes sense.

[Iggy 21:37] That truly is not my concern, if someone is going to tattoo Noctis I would prefer it was you over anyone else.

[Prompto 21:38] oh (´つヮ⊂)

[Iggy 21:39] (＾ω＾) I promise my only concern was how quickly Noct had seemed to make the decision. If he would still like the tattoo come graduation, I will book the appointment with you and pay for the work myself.

[Prompto 21:40] (´つヮ⊂)(´つヮ⊂)(´つヮ⊂)(´つヮ⊂)(´つヮ⊂)

[Prompto 21:41] omg

[Iggy 21:42] You’re very talented and have worked hard to hone your craft in the short time you have had able. Nyx and Clarus’ tattoos - and your own - are remarkable. Try to be proud of everything you have achieved.

[Prompto 21:44] thanks iggy (Ｔ▽Ｔ) i’ll try

\- - -

Gladio wraps his arms around Prompto from behind, hands on his belly and mouth teasing at his ear.

Prompto laughs and gently reaches back to elbow him in the ribs.

“Stop it,” Prompto says, “Iggy said I had to be extra careful this sauce so it _bubbles_ but doesn’t boil.”

“There is literally no difference,” Gladio grumbles but he gives Prompto a kiss on the side of his head and goes off to play with Rosie where she’s playing with some of her toys.

Prompto really is trying to focus on the sauce but he’s aware of Gladio and Rosie playing tug in his periphery, Rosie’s playful yip when Gladio holds it above her reach. It’s oddly peaceful, familiar and domestic and -

The front door _rattles_ under the force of the hands banging on it and Rosie _howls,_ sprinting towards the door, legs slipping a little on the wood flooring and she barks excitedly at whoever is behind it.

“Let me in losers I’ve got something for you!” Noct calls through the wood.

Gladio has to wrestle Rosie back enough to get it open without bopping her on the nose. She’s still making noise, wriggling restlessly even when Gladio opens it up and it’s just familiar people, Noct and Iggy, on the other side.

“Thanks for that,” Gladio says to Noct sarcasm _dripping_ from the words.

Prompto keeps stirring, adjusting the heat a little as the bubbles start to come a little faster.

“Oops, sorry.”

“Where’s the fire?” Prompto asks, without looking up at his friends.

“We’re celebrating,” Noct calls, “Luna is both sorry and annoyed that she can’t be here.”

Gladio murmurs something but Prompto is too far away to make out what it is.

“Celebrating what?” Prompto asks and the sauce seems settled enough again for him to look up.

Ignis is clutching a brown envelope in his hand, one of the big ones that’ll hold a full sheet of paper without folding it. Noct, bizarrely, is clutching two bottles of what Prompto thinks might be champagne - it has _corks_ \- and wearing a grin that can only be described as shit eating.

“Congrats buddy, you’re in!”

Prompto has no idea what he’s talking about and he actually feels a little guilty watching Noct’s face fall.

“In where?” Prompto asks. Ignis steps around the prince, coming towards Prompto in the kitchen.

“Lucis!” Noct shouts, earning Rosie’s displeasure and retaliatory head-butt, “Sorry, Rosie,” Noct apologises, “But - happy citizenship, Prom!”

Prompto had _forgotten_. Prompto had though it was such a long shot -

He hasn’t thought about it in the longest time.

“Wait you don’t mean,” Prompto all but gasps, “Holy shit.”

“It’s all in here,” Ignis tells him calmly and he steps forward, taking the spoon from his hand and replacing it with the envelope, “You're an official Lucian Citizen and registered permanent resident of Insomnia. Niflheim has no claim on you.”

Noct’s stood nearby and he seems ready for it when Prompto throws his arms around his shoulders, muffling a sob in his hair.

“ _You’re staying_ ,” Noct whispers holding him tight, “You’re not ever going anywhere.”

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Prompto says when he’s able to pull away. He wants to jump into Gladio’s arms but first -

Ignis seems surprised, huffing a sweet little laugh when Prompto wraps his arms around him from the side. Prompto can’t find any more words but from the little smile on Ignis’ face as he continues to care for Prompto’s cooking Prompto thinks he gets it.

Prompto doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry when he leaps into Gladio’s arms so he does a little of the two, relieved and excited and happy.

Gladio secures a strong arm under his butt, keeping Prompto up against his chest and pets the back of his head, holding him close into his neck and he processes this moment. Rosie’s feet tap across the floor and she licks the bottom of Prompto’s foot, vanishing again when Noct calls her over.

This is the start of the rest of Prompto's life.

He never has to go back.

 _Never_.

He’s not a _Niff_ any more. He’s _Lucian_. He’d chosen this life and his friends and his boyfriend - his _family_ \- had chosen him back and done whatever they’d had to in order to help him stay.

Prompto hears a cork pop and tries to pull himself back together, thanking Gladio for his support - physical and otherwise - with messy kisses up the side of his neck, mouth and face damp. As Prompto opens his eyes to the lights of their apartment again Gladio starts moving, carrying Prompto over to the kitchen where he’s deposited in one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

The envelope is still clutched in Prompto’s hand and he wastes no more time tearing into it. Carefully though, so as not to damage the precious insides.

There’s several papers inside the one on top a _literal_ certificate if Citizenship. There’s two signatures, one a meaningless squiggle but the other is done with Noct’s own hand, the long form of his name, numerals and everything.

Prompto blinks down at it.

It’s _real_.

Wordlessly he hands it to Gladio, still stood close to his side.

It makes Gladio grin, broad and toothy, the same joy Prompto feels inside him reflected on his handsome face. Gladio kisses his head and then crosses into the kitchen in a few long strides, pinning the certificate up on the fridge on full display, using the two magnets they have to hold it in place.

Prompto laughs but he sobs too and the sound that rises out of him is strange and strangled. Prompto thinks he might completely break down but Noct is suddenly in Gladio’s space, thrusting a wine glass full of fizzing champagne under his nose. Prompto doesn’t like the smell very much but the bubbles pop pleasantly against his tongue and the burn of the alcohol helps settle him.

“Thanks,” Prompto manages. Noct shakes his head smiling. Rosie’s come over with him and Prompto reaches across to add his hand into the fur on her head right along Noct’s, giving her a good scratch to let her know she’s being a good girl amongst all the ruckus.

Prompto won't ever have to leave _her_ , either.

“Dude it was worth it,” Noct assures him, “And Iggy did most of it, to be fair. I just used a fancy pen to scribble my name down.”

“It’s a long name,” Prompto points out.

Noct snorts, “There is that, I guess.” Noct takes a sip of the champagne, wrinkling his nose as he swallows.

“Come on,” Prompto says, nodding at their companions. He hops down from his stool and walks around into the main part of the kitchen, wriggling his way into the gap between the older men. Gladio slips his palm onto Prompto’s lower back and Prompto leans into him.

Prompto grabs Ignis’ forearm, squeezing gently to try and wordlessly say, again, how grateful he is.

“I feel like I'm dreaming,” Prompto says.

Gladio nuzzles his hair, kissing him once more, “Welcome home, Freckles.”

“We’re very happy to have you,” Ignis promises.

“Cheers!” Noct calls and they all raise their glasses.

\- - -

Prompto’s phone rings but he’s trying to cram for finals in the study so he doesn’t get up to retrieve it from the lounge, trusting Gladio to keep an eye on it - as promised - and let him know if it’s important.

The ringing stops and Prompto hears Gladio talking through the wall which means it’s probably Noct, or _maybe_ Iggy. Prompto realises he’s trying to strain to listen rather than work and shakes his head, squinting down at the stupid, dumb, pointless words before him.

“Babe?” Gladio says through the door, tapping very softly as he pushes it open, “It’s Eli, you want him to call back?”

“No,” Prompto says, glad for the break even if he won’t admit it out loud, “I’ll talk to him now.”

Gladio hands over the phone _and_ a kiss on the forehead which is much appreciated and slips back out of the room.

“Hey, Eli.”

“ _Sorry to bother you, kid_ ,” Eli says, “ _I know it’s crunch time_.”

“Don’t worry about it, what’s going on?”

Eli sighs down and Prompto can sense the frustration, the rough quality to his voice, “ _I just wanted to give you a heads up - Malcolm is thinking of selling the studio._ ”

“What the fuck?” Prompto says, aghast.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Eli says, “ _Feels out of nowhere but he says he’s been planning it for a while._ ”

“What’ll happen to you?” Prompto asks, wondering silently the less important, _to me_.

“ _Depends who buys it I guess,_ ” Eli tells him, “ _I just wanted you to know, because he might cut you out. Make us less appealing for not having an apprentice in place already - less responsibility you know._ ”

“Oh.”

Prompto’s allowed to use his apprenticeship for course credit next years, he and Eli have already done the paperwork, tentatively put a schedule in place so that Prompto can get a little more variety in his experience.

“We’ll sort something out, alright Prompto? I’ll help you find somewhere else if we need to.”

“Thanks,” Prompto says.

“ _It sucks_ ,” Eli says, “ _I like it here, me and Malcolm don’t always get along but he lets me do what I like, art wise, you know. Doesn’t make me book in more appointments than I want, none of that_.”

“Will you leave?” Prompto asks, “If the new owners are more -” Strict. Rigid.

“ _Maybe_ ,” Eli says, “ _But_ Insomnia Ink _has always been the best and I don’t want to have to build up an all new reputation_.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Prompto groans, “Sorry, Eli.”

“ _Not your fault_ ,” he says, “ _I’ll let you get back to it, okay. And I’ll keep you updated._ ”

“Yeah, thanks.”

\- - -

A couple are sat on Prompto and Noct’s bench but the weather is pleasant and dry so Noct drags them instead onto the grass and lies down, eyes closed against the bright sun. Prompto sits for a moment and then gives in, lying beside him and folding his arms over his belly.

“So, uh - you know next year,” Noct starts.

“It’s a period of time that I know to exist, sure,” Prompto says. Noct jabs him in the ribs and Prompto giggles rolling half onto his side away from Noct briefly before settling back down.

“I meant when I get married,” Noct goes on.

“Oh, right. Yeah, what about it?”

“Well I was wondering, would you like - maybe, want to be my best man?”

Prompto turns his head to look at him, slightly shocked by the question. Noct’s face is unreadable though, eyes still squeezed tight against the light.

“Not Iggy?”

Noct snorts, “No - I love him but he’s not - he’s not you.”

“Oh.”

“Plus he’ll be Gladio’s best man, right? When you guys get married,” Noct says matter of fact. Prompto’s still kind of reeling from this comment when Noct goes on, “Me and Luna will be in your party and Gladio will have Iris and Iggy. Maybe Nyx, though you might want Nyx I guess.”

Prompto laughs from right in his belly, he can’t help it.

“Have you put this much effort into planning your own wedding or just mine?” Prompto teases.

“It’s about fifty-fifty I think.”

They laugh together, heads migrating closer to one another until Noct's gently knocking them together, stopping with their hair mingling against the grass.

“So what do you say? Best man or no?”

“Dude,” Prompto says, “Of course I fucking will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :cries:
> 
> Edit: It's been a week now and maybe I'm over it. Over it enough to start working on the other parts at least!!! Thanks for sticking with me through this guys 💕💕

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I started yelling and rambling about things on twitter [@Ginger_El_](https://twitter.com/Ginger_El_). Come say hi!


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